public position for which he has had no training. That no doubt
is the real reason for the growth of quiet marriages; and the
desire for them, I suspect, comes first from the man, for there
are few women who at heart do not prefer the old histrionic
display.

However, the village wedding at which I suddenly found myself a
spectator was, for a village, a singularly quiet one. There was
no bell-ringing, and there were no bridesmaids. The bride drove
up quietly with her father, and there was a subdued note even in
the murmur of recognition which ran along the villagers as they
stood in groups near the church porch. There was an absence of
the usual hilarity which struck me. One might almost have said
that there was a quite ominous silence.

Seating myself in a corner of the transept where I could see all
and be little seen, I with the rest awaited the coming of the
overdue bridegroom. Meanwhile the usual buzzing and bobbing of
heads went on amongst the usual little group near the foot of the
altar. Now and then one caught a glisten of tears through a
widow's veil, and the little bride, dressed quietly in grey,
talked with the usual nervous gaiety to her girl friends, and
made the usual whispered confidences about her trousseau. The
father, in occasional conversation with one and another, appeared
to be avoiding the subject with the usual self-conscious
solemnity, and occasionally he looked, somewhat anxiously, I
thought, towards the church door. The bridegroom did not keep us
waiting long,--I noticed that he had a rather delicate sad
face,--and presently the service began.