Where were my thoughts? What had become of my attention? I was
too bewildered to know. I started and looked at my new husband.
He seemed to be almost as much bewildered as I was. The same
thought had, as I believe, occurred to us both at the same
moment. Was it really possible--in spite of his mother's
opposition to our marriage--that we were Man and Wife? My aunt
Starkweather settled the question by a second tap on my shoulder.

"Take his arm!" she whispered, in the tone of a woman who had
lost all patience with me.

I took his arm.

"Follow your uncle."

Holding fast by my husband's arm, I followed my uncle and the
curate who had assisted him at the marriage.

The two clergymen led us into the vestry. The church was in one
of the dreary quarters of London, situated between the City and
the West End; the day was dull; the atmosphere was heavy and
damp. We were a melancholy little wedding party, worthy of the
dreary neighborhood and the dull day. No relatives or friends of
my husband's were present; his family, as I have already hinted,
disapproved of his marriage. Except my uncle and my aunt, no
other relations appeared on my side. I had lost both my parents,
and I had but few friends. My dear father's faithful old clerk,
Benjamin, attended the wedding to "give me away," as the phrase
is. He had known me from a child, and, in my forlorn position, he
was as good as a father to me.