“Think what marriage means to a woman—­a young girl especially.  It means the breaking of old ties, the beginning of a new life, the setting out into an unknown world on a voyage from which there can be no return.  In her weakness and her helplessness she leaves one dependency for another, the shelter of a father for the shelter of a husband.  What does she bring to the man she marries?  Herself, everything she is, everything she can be, to be made or marred by him, and never, never, never to be the same to any other man whatsoever as long as life shall last.”

More than ever now, but for other reasons, I wanted to fly from the room.

“Friends,” cried Father Dan, “we don’t know much of the bridegroom in this parish, but we know the bride.  We’ve known her all her life.  We know what she is.  I do, anyway.  If you are her father, Mr. O’Neill, sir, I am her father also.  I was in this house when she was born.  I baptized her.  I took her out of the arms of the angel who bore her.  So she’s my child too, God bless her. . . .”

His voice was breaking—­I was sobbing—­though he was speaking so loudly I could scarcely hear him—­I could scarcely see him—­I only knew that he was facing about in our direction and raising his trembling hand to my husband.

“She is my child, too, I say, and now that she is leaving us, now that you are taking her away from us, I charge you, my lord, to be good and faithful to her, as you will have to answer for her soul some day.”

What else he said I do not know.  From that moment I was blind and deaf to everything.  Nevertheless I was conscious that after Father Dan had ceased to speak there was a painful silence.  I thought the company seemed to be startled and even a little annoyed by the emotion so suddenly shot into their midst.  The Bishop looked vexed, my father looked uncomfortable, and my husband, who had been drinking glass after glass of brandy, was muttering something about “a sermon.”

It had been intended that Mr. Eastcliff should speak for the bridesmaids, and I was afterwards told by Betsy Beauty that he had prepared himself with many clever epigrams, but everybody felt there could be no more speaking of any kind now.  After a few awkward moments my father looked at his watch and said it was about time for us to start if we were to catch the steamer, so I was hurried upstairs to change for our journey.

When I came down again, in my tailor-made travelling dress with sables, the whole company was in the hall and everybody seemed to be talking at the same time, making a noise like water in a weir.

I was taken possession of by each in turn.  Nessy MacLeod told me in an aside what an excellent father I had.  Betsy Beauty whispered that Mr. Eastcliff was so handsome and their tastes were so similar that she hoped I would invite him to Castle Raa as soon as I came back.  Aunt Bridget, surrounded by a group of sympathising ladies (including Lady Margaret, who was making an obvious effort to be gracious) was wiping her eyes and saying I had always been her favourite and she had faithfully done her duty by me.