close together, the young men by themselves.  The bride was quite evident from the bridal whiteness of her hat, a pitiful cheap affair bedecked with thin white ribbon and a forlorn white plume; but although the bridegroom was as unmistakable, it was difficult to tell how.  Carroll decided that it was because of the intensified melancholy and abjectness and shame of his expression.  Not one of the young men, who numbered as many as the girls, but had it.  They were all ignoble, contemptible, their faces above their paper collars and hideous ties stained with miserable imaginations.  There was not a self-respecting face among them; but the girls were better.  There was in their faces an innocent gayety like children.  Instead of the painful, restrained grins of the young men, they giggled artlessly when their eyes met.  They were innocently conscious of their flimsy and gaudy dresses of the cheapest lawn or muslin on that cold day, with a multitude of frills of cheap lace and bows of cheap ribbon, with bare hands adorned with blue or red stoned rings protruding from their poor jacket-sleeves.  The bride, afraid of crushing her finery, had nothing over her shoulders in her thin white muslin except one of the gay Hungarian kerchiefs.  It was of an exceedingly brilliant green color, a green greener than the grass of spring.  Above it her homely, downcast face showed beneath the flapping white hat, which had a cluster of blue roses under the brim next the dark streaks of her coarse hair.  The face of the bride was simple and rude in contour and line, the face of a peasant from a long line of peasants, and it was complex with the simple complexity of the simplest and most primal emotions, with love and joy and wonder, the half-fearful triumph of swift inertia, attained at last in the full element of life.  The others were different; they were dimpling and laughing and jesting in their unintelligible guttural.  Their faces knew nothing of the seriousness of the bride’s.  One of them was exceedingly pretty, with a beauty unusual in her race.  Her high cheek-bones were covered with the softest rosy flesh, her wide mouth was outlined by curves.  She wore her cheap muslin with an air, gathering up her petticoat, edged with the coarsest lace, daintily from the muddy floor, revealing her large feet in heavy shoes and white stockings.  All the young men of the party except the prospective groom, who sat entirely wrapped in his atmosphere of grinning, shamefaced consciousness, glanced furtively at her from time to time.  She was quite aware of their glances, but she never returned them.  When a young man looked at her, she said something to one of the girls, and laughed prettily, striking another pose for admiration.  She never, however, glanced at Carroll as did the two pretty girls beyond him on the same seat.  She seemed to have no consciousness of any one in the car outside of those of her own race.  Indeed, the whole party, travelling in a strange land, speaking their strange