The gig did not overtake me: and it was well I had not waited for it; vexatious rather, that I had been fool enough to wait so long.
At length, however, I entered the neighbourhood of Grassdale.

I approached the little rural church--but lo! there stood a train of carriages before it; it needed not the white favours bedecking the servants and horses, nor the merry voices of the village idlers assembled to witness the show, to apprise me that there was a wedding within.

I ran in among them, demanding, with breathless eagerness, had the ceremony long commenced?
They only gaped and stared.

In my desperation, I pushed past them, and was about to enter the churchyard gate, when a group of ragged urchins, that had been hanging like bees to the window, suddenly dropped off and made a rush for the porch, vociferating in the uncouth dialect of their country something which signified, 'It's over--they're coming out!' If Eliza Millward had seen me then she might indeed have been delighted.
I grasped the gate-post for support, and stood intently gazing towards the door to take my last look on my soul's delight, my first on that detested mortal who had torn her from my heart, and doomed her, I was certain, to a life of misery and hollow, vain repining--for what happiness could she enjoy with him?
I did not wish to shock her with my presence now, but I had not power to move away.

Forth came the bride and bridegroom.