We shivered as we stood about the altar; the clergyman's teeth chattered as he began the marriage service; and the echoes of our responses reverberated forlornly up among the gothic rafters overhead.

Even the sunbeams struggled sadly and palely down the upper windows, and the chill wind whistled in when the door was opened, bringing with it a moan of coming rain.
The ceremony over, the books signed in the vestry, and the clergyman, clerk, and pew-opener duly remunerated for their services, we prepared to be gone.

For a couple of moments, Dalrymple and his bride stood apart in the shadow of the porch.

I saw him take the hand on which he had just placed the ring, and look down upon it tenderly, wistfully--I saw him bend lower, and lower, whispering what no other ears might hear--saw their lips meet for one brief instant.

Then the lady's veil was lowered; she turned hastily away; and Dalrymple was left standing in the doorway alone.
"By Heaven!" said he, grasping my hand as though he would crush it.
"This is hard to bear." I but returned the pressure of his hand; for I knew not with what words to comfort him.