As is often the case, while his eyes actually saw one thing, his consciousness saw another.

Great, purple, pendulous flowers filled his bodily vision, and the head and shoulders of a young girl above a church pew his mental outlook.

Had he seen the Carrolls in church--had he, indeed?
Had he seen anything besides them, or rather besides one of them?
Had he not, the moment she came up the aisle and entered the pew, seen her with a very clutch of vision?
He could not have described one article of her dress, and yet it was complete in his thought.

She had worn a soft silk of a dull-red shade, with a frill of cream lace about the shoulders, and there were pink roses under the brim of her dull-red hat, and under the roses was her face, shaded softly with a great puff of her dark hair.

And her dark eyes under the dark hair had in them the very light of morning dew, which sparkled back both this world and heaven itself into the eyes of the looker, all reflected in tiny crystal spheres.