He wished she had not been so strangely beautiful, that the scent
of lilies had not brought so heavy a faintness, reminding him of
death-chambers.

It was not till Hazel reached the top of the chapel that the
congregation observed Foxy, a small red figure, trotting willingly in
Hazel's wake--a loving though incompetent bridesmaid.

Mr. James arose and walked up the chapel.

'I will remove the animal' he said; then he saw that Hazel was leading
Foxy. This insult was, then, deliberate. 'A hanimal,' he said, 'hasn't
no business in a place o' worship.'

'What for not?' asked Hazel.

'Because--' Mr. James found himself unable to go on. 'Because not,' he
finished blusterously. He laid his hand on the cord, but Foxy prepared
for conflict.

Edward's colleague turned away, hand to mouth. He was obliged to
contemplate the ivy outside the window while the altercation lasted.

'Whoever made you,' Hazel said, 'made Foxy. Where you can come, Foxy
can come. You'm deacon, Foxy's bridesmaid!'

'That's heathen talk,' said Mr. James.

'How very naughty Hazel is!' thought poor Mrs. Marston. She felt that
she could never hold up her head again. The congregation giggled. The