Rose, who looked quiet and happy; and so she stood up at the proper time,
and the minister married them with a certain fervor and individual
application, that made them feel they were married indeed. Then there
ensued a salutation of the bride, the first to kiss her being the
minister, and then some respectable old justices and farmers, each with
his friendly smile and joke. Then went round the cake and wine, and other
good cheer, and the hereditary jokes with which brides used to be assailed
in those days. I think, too, there was a dance, though how the couples in
the reel found space to foot it in the little room, I cannot imagine; at
any rate, there was a bright light out of the windows, gleaming across the
road, and such a sound of the babble of numerous voices and merriment,
that travellers passing by, on the lonely Lexington road, wished they were
of the party; and one or two of them stopped and went in, and saw the
new-made bride, drank to her health, and took a piece of the wedding-cake
home to dream upon.

[_It is to be observed that Rose had requested of her friend, Sibyl Dacy,
to act as one of her bridesmaids, of whom she had only the modest number
of two; and the strange girl declined, saying that her intermeddling would
bring ill-fortune to the marriage_.]

"Why do you talk such nonsense, Sibyl?" asked Rose. "You love me, I am
sure, and wish me well; and your smile, such as it is, will be the promise
of prosperity, and I wish for it on my wedding-day."

"I am an ill-fate, a sinister demon, Rose; a thing that has sprung out of a
grave; and you had better not entreat me to twine my poison tendrils round
your destinies. You would repent it."

"Oh, hush, hush!" said Rose, putting her hand over her friend's mouth.