by the sound of some one stirring, not without grumbling at
being awoke so early. Lizzie came and kissed her before she went away.
"Oh, Granny, say God bless you!" she cried; "for I'm all shaking and
trembling, and I don't know what may come to me to-day." "Lord bless the
child!" said Mrs. Bagley, "what's a-coming to her? A body would think
as it's you as is going to be married to-day; but God bless you's easy
said, and meant from the 'art, and never comes amiss; and God bless Miss
Chatty too, the dear, and give her a happy weddin' and a happy life."
Lizzie felt that she could not say Amen. It seemed to choke her, when
she tried to utter that word, for it was little happiness poor Miss
Chatty would have, if she did what she was going to do. She hurried to
the station, which was a long walk in the fresh morning, feeling the air
chill and sharp. It was a long way to the station, and then the railway
made a round, so that an active person would have found it almost as
quick to walk straight to Highcombe, and it was between eight and nine
when Lizzie at last found herself before the door of Mrs. Warrender's
house. She thought it looked wonderfully quiet for the morning of a
wedding, the shutters still closed over the drawing-room windows. But
it would be vain to attempt to describe her dismay when she heard the
explanation of this tranquillity. Not here, but in London! Didn't she
know? the housemaid said, who was a girl from Underwood. She thought
everybody had known. And Lizzie had the sickening consciousness that
had she inquired a little more closely she might have discovered for
herself, and saved herself this trouble. She was taken in by the
sympathising housemaid to have a second cup of tea at least, if not
breakfast, and to hear all about the preparations and the dresses,
which Betsey, though sadly disappointed to miss the glories of the
wedding, had yet seen, and could describe. And there was not a train to
London till nearly ten. She asked herself in her dismay whether it was
worth going then, whether perhaps it were not Providence that had stopped
her; but then, with a returning obstinacy of purpose, determined that
she would not be beaten, that whatever hindered she would not be kept
back.

She got to London just at the hour when the wedding party were to leave
for church, and found them gone when she arrived at the house. Lizzie's
habits did not consist with taking cabs. She had toiled along from the
station, ho