“Here he is then, now,” said some one. “The Vinings are so popular!”
More bustle2, and pressing, and confusion; the steps round the font invaded, and two small boys mounted on the stove to get a good view, while no one interrupts them; the organ-gallery crammed3 as it never was on Sundays; and the organist hard put to it to keep people from invading his own little sanctum behind the red curtains, and treading upon the pedal keys.
The boy at the bellows4 has already pumped the wind-chest full, and there is a wheezing5 sound of escaping air. But the excitement down below is now at its height, and a murmur6 of admiration7 is heard as pudgy Mr Bray8, hat in hand, leads in Laura—proud, sweeping9, stately, and with her eyes cast down, but her head thrown back.
No modest retiring bride she, though the lids do droop10 and the long black fringes conceal11 the dark flashing eyes. For she has arrived at the moment of her triumph, and there is a curl to her upper lip as she leads, rather than is led, and passes between scores of the envious12.
The chosen one of Charles Vining of Blandfield, the heir to the old baronetcy, Laura knows that there is many a one present who would give ten years of her life to exchange places—to become the future Lady Vining, the leader of the society of the district for miles round. How could she think of the past, when so bright a future was before her? How could she trouble now about forebodings and shadows of coming evil? All were forgotten as she swept down the long nave13, each moment more queenly of aspect.
The chancel screen was passed, and the chancel entered—the chancel filled with friends, who smilingly part to allow her to pass to where the invited hedge-in the bridesmaids—a light and cloudy bevy14 of eight, all white and pale blue, and pale blue fading into white. Dainty forget-me-nots hidden here by lace, or peeping out there from amidst transparent15 tissue, while every cheek is tinged16 with the bright damask-rose hue17 of excitement. The flowers in the bouquets18 tell tales of the hands that hold, for they tremble and nod; and more than one of those white-gloved hands has drawn19 out the end of a delicately-scented and laced pocket-handkerchief, so as to have it ready for the tears that will be sure to flow anon; but for a moment the tears, are forgotten, as the bride appears.
“Are you ready?” whispers a voice; and the horribly incongruous-looking clerk comes bustling20 out of the vestry as the smiling pew-opener dabs21 the hassocks about, and then smoothes herself down and smirks22 at everybody, as she wonders how much the wedding will be worth to her.
“Shall I tell them to come?” says the clerk again, smiling so that you can see the two yellow teeth in his top jaw23, and the one and a half below. “They’re waiting to come and begin.”
These remarks of course relate to the clergymen in the vestry, who are warming their boot-toes as they stand in front of the fire, like three shut out ghosts, and discuss the amount of the Vinings’ fortune, and talk of Laura Bray’s lucky hit. But as the questions are put in a general fashion by the clerk, no one conceives it to be his duty to answer, and consequently there is a dead silence; and now Laura feels, as it were, an icy hand slowly passing towards that heavily-throbbing heart of hers, nearer and nearer, as if about to clutch it, only holding off for a few moments to add to her torture in that dreadful pause, broken at length by an ominous24 whisper that runs through the length and breadth of the church:
“Where is the bridegroom?”
That pause must have lasted some thirty seconds; but to those in waiting it seemed an hour. Laura’s eyes were not cast down, but flashing fiercely, and the hand at her heart—the icy cold hand—now moved as if to clutch it, when she drew a long sighing breath of relief; for though hurt at the apparent neglect, she was once more elate and proud; for a voice at the entry was heard to cry, “Here they come!” and overbearing the whispers of the expectant crowd could be heard the rapid beat of galloping25 horses and the whirl of wheels.
“They’re a-coming down the road as hard as ever they can gallop,” whispered a man at one of the windows which commanded the way to Blandfield.
“But is it them?” said another aloud.
“Them! Of course it is; chariot and four; blue and silver. And, my word, how they are going it!”
It was an insult, certainly, his not being there in time—a cruel insult to his bride-elect; but Laura would forgive anything, for he had much to forgive in her, she whispered to herself.
“It’s all right,” said Mr Bray, nervously26 looking at his watch. “Blandfield time is always correct; but this church-clock is a perfect disgrace, although we are so foolish as to set our watches by it. Here he is, though!”
Cheering from the boys; galloping horses; whirring wheels, and a rapid rattling27 rush; and a chariot and four had dashed past the church-gates, and away down the High-street of Lexville, as fast as four well-bred horses could tear.
Away it went, swaying from side to side on its springs, faster and faster as the horses warmed to their work; and those nearer to the door ran out into the churchyard.
“They’ve taken fright and run away!”
“The horses were too fresh; they’ve done no work lately.”
“Why didn’t they have post-horses from the Lion?”
“Sir Philip and Master Charles were both in it!”
“They weren’t: there was only one.”
“I tell you the chariot was empty.”
“Them two grooms28 have been at the ’all ale, that’s about it.”
“The carriage must be smashed!”
Remarks in a perfect, or rather imperfect, chaos29 jumbled30 one another as opinions were passed. But at last the news was taken to where, with the icy hand now clutching her heart, stood Laura, not fainting, but stern, pale, and erect31, that there was nothing to fear, the grooms had evidently been drinking, and the horses had taken fright, but that the chariot was empty.
“Yes, yes, it’s all right. Here they come!” cried a voice at the door; and two bridesmaids about to faint, refrained—“here’s the barouche, and one, two—yes, there’s four inside.”
And once more there was a buzz of expectation. Such an accident couldn’t have been helped, of course; horses would be restive32 sometimes, but it was hard on the poor bride. But, all the same, those who took more interest in the smashing of a carriage than the linking together of hearts, set off at a brisk run down the High-street.
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1
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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2
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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3
crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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4
bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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5
wheezing
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的现在分词 )；哮鸣 | |
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6
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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7
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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8
bray
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| n.驴叫声, 喇叭声；v.驴叫 | |
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9
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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10
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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11
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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12
envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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13
nave
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| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
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14
bevy
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| n.一群 | |
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15
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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16
tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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18
bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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19
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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20
bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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21
dabs
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| 少许( dab的名词复数 )； 是…能手； 做某事很在行； 在某方面技术熟练 | |
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22
smirks
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| n.傻笑，得意的笑( smirk的名词复数 )v.傻笑( smirk的第三人称单数 ) | |
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23
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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24
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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25
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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26
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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27
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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28
grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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29
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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30
jumbled
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| adj.混乱的；杂乱的 | |
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31
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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32
restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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