Ruby knew nothing of the storm brewing for her, but Mary Jane, whose ears had been twice boxed that morning, had heard a whisper of it on her way down to the church, and was confirmed in her fears by observing the few members of the congregation who entered after her.

Men and women alike suffered from an unwonted corpulence and tightness of raiment that morning, and each and all seemed to have cast the affliction off as they arose from their knees.

It was too late to interfere, so she sat still and trembled.
Still the bridegroom did not come.
"A more onpresidented feat I don't recall," remarked Uncle Issy to a group that stood at the west end under the gallery, "not since 'Melia Spry's buryin', when the devil, i' the shape of a black pig, followed us all the way to the porch." "That was a brave while ago, Uncle." "Iss, iss; but I mind to this hour how we bearers perspired--an' she such a light-weight corpse.

But plague seize my old emotions!--we'm come to marry, not to bury." "By the look o't 'tis' neither marry nor bury, Nim nor Doll," observed Old Zeb, who had sacrificed his paternal feelings and come to church in order to keep abreast with the age; "'tis more like Boscastle Fair, begin at twelve o'clock an' end at noon.

Why tarry the wheels of his chariot ?" "'Tis possible Young Zeb an' he have a-met 'pon the road hither," hazarded Calvin Oke by a wonderful imaginative effort; "an' 'tis possible that feelings have broke loose an' one o' the twain be swelterin' in his own bloodshed, or vicey-versey." "I heard tell of a man once," said Uncle Issy, "that committed murder upon another for love; but, save my life, I can't think 'pon his name, nor where 't befell." "What an old store-house 'tis!" ejaculated Elias Sweetland, bending a contemplative gaze on Uncle Issy.
"Mark her pale face, naybours," put in a woman; "an' Tresidder, he looks like a man that's neither got nor lost." "Trew, trew." "Quarter past the hour, I make it," said Old Zeb, pulling out his timepiece.
Still the bridegroom tarried.
Higher up the church, in the front pew but one, Modesty Prowse said aloud to Sarah Ann Nan Julian-- "If he doesn' look sharp, we'll be married before she after all." Ruby heard the sneer, and answered it with a look of concentrated spite.
Probably she would have risked her dignity to retort, had not Parson Babbage advanced down the chancel at this juncture.
"Has anyone seen the bridegroom to-day ?" he inquired of Tresidder.
"Or will you send some one to hurry him ?" "Be danged if I know," the farmer began testily, mopping his bald head, and then he broke off, catching sound of a stir among the folk behind.
"Here he be--here he be at last!" cried somebody.