Carefully as the secret of the
marriage had been kept, the opening of the church in the morning had
been enough to betray it. A small congregation, almost entirely composed
of women, were scattered here and there among the pews. Kirke's sister
and her children were staying with a friend at Aldborough, and Kirke's
sister was one of the congregation.
As the wedding-party entered the church, the haunting terror of Mrs.
Lecount spread from Noel Vanstone to the captain. For the first few
minutes, the eyes of both of them looked among the women in the pews
with the same searching scrutiny, and looked away again with the same
sense of relief. The clergyman noticed that look, and investigated the
License more closely than usual. The clerk began to doubt privately
whether the old proverb about the bride was a proverb to be always
depended on. The female members of the congregation murmured among
themselves at the inexcusable disregard of appearances implied in the
bride's dress. Kirke's sister whispered venomously in her friend's ear,
"Thank God for to-day for Robert's sake." Mrs. Wragge cried silently,
with the dread of some threatening calamity she knew not what.
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