“The lady, as I said, was a beauty; the gentleman had extra will enough when it was roused to make up for the absence of beauty, although, indeed, the lady was not lacking in that quality either, and so, opposition made them only more determined to have their own way.  It was impossible to run away,—­she was too well guarded; defiance was the only thing, and I must confess that from what I knew of them both, I think they enjoyed it.  The Capulets, as I will call them, were dissenters, the Montagues belonged to the Established Church.  Now, the Capulets were very zealous, and at this time a famous itinerant preacher came into their neighborhood.  They, being the greatest people in the place, invited him to stay at their house during his visit.  He often preached in the open air.  One day, at the end of one of those eloquent discourses, a young man in countryman’s dress came up and asked him to marry himself and a young woman whom he had been waiting upon a long time, but who had refused to be married unless this very preacher could perform the ceremony.  ’She said it would be a blessed wedlock of your joining,’ pursued the young fellow.  The preacher, although he was a great man, was only human,—­it is well, I suppose, that we never outgrow our humanity,—­and felt flattered by the young girl’s belief in his sanctity.  He proposed the next day for the ceremony, and was arranging to marry the rustic couple on the lawn before the house of his host when the young man interrupted him by stating that it must be gone through with immediately, for his lady-love was so shy that it was with difficulty she had been persuaded to come to-night, and she would never consent if he gave her all that time to think the matter over in, nor would she be willing to come up on the lawn with the great people.  She was at hand with one of her friends; everything was prepared; would he marry them then?  At that moment?  The bewildered minister looked up the road before him, where the carriage of the Capulets was disappearing at the top of the hill; he had been told that the daughter would remain with him, and that the carriage would return as soon as Mamma Capulet had made inquiries about a cottager who was ill; for his congregation had been crowding about him with questions and tearful confessions of sins, and the good Capulets, who had the opportunity to make their confessions in private, were in haste to be gone.  Where was his fair companion?  He looked about him; he had lost sight of her in the throng.  But in a few moments she came forward, accompanying the bride, who the groom explained was a protegee of hers.  Miss Capulet had drawn down her veil, and in answer to this statement nodded to the reverend gentleman and murmured an assent.  The bride’s face, too, was hidden by her bonnet and by her shyness, which prevented her from once looking up.  The name of the groom lingered with surprise on the minister’s lips, for it was not a clodhopper’s name, I assure you; but he had heard nothing of the