She was now his love, his wife forever, and when Ethel slipped forward to part and throw backward the concealing veil, he very gently restrained her, and with his own hands uncovered the blushing beauty, and kissed her there at the altar.
Then amid a murmur and stir of delighted sympathy he took his wife upon his arm, and turned with her to the life they were to face together.
Two hours later all was a past dream.

Bride and bridegroom had slipped quietly away, and the wedding guests had arrived at that rather noisy indifference which presages the end of an entertainment.

Then flushed and tired with hurrying congratulations and good wishes that stumbled over each other, carriage after carriage departed; and Ethel and her companions went to Dora's parlor to rest awhile and discuss the event of the day.

But Dora's parlor was in a state of confusion.

It had, too, an air of loss, and felt like a gilded cage from which the bird had flown.
They looked dismally at its discomfort and went downstairs.