"It's a beautiful morning, miss.

I hope--you are very well ?" And then the day had begun.
Afterwards it marched on with solemn thrill and stately movement through hours of wondrous preparation for an imposing function, through the splendid gravity of the function itself, accompanied by brilliant crowds collected and looking on in a fashionable church, and motley crowds collected to look on outside the edifice, the latter pushing and jostling each other and commenting in more or less respectful if excited undertones, but throughout devouring with awe-struck or envious eyes.
Great people whom Emily had only known through the frequent mention of their names in newspapers or through their relationship or intimacy with her patrons, came to congratulate her in her role of bride.

She seemed to be for hours the centre of a surging, changing crowd, and her one thought was to bear herself with an outward semblance of composure.

No one but herself could know that she was saying internally over and over again, to steady herself, making it all seem real, "I am being married.
This is my wedding.

I am Emily Fox-Seton being married to the Marquis of Walderhurst.