A grand wedding was ‘expected,’ so all the Bayford flys were bespoken three deep, a cake was ordered from Gunter, and so many invitations sent out, that Albinia speculated how all were to come alive out of the little dining-room.

And Mr. Kendal the presiding gentleman!

He had hardly seemed aware of his impending fate till the last evening, when, as the family were separating at night, he sighed disconsolately, and said, ‘I am as bad as you are, Sophy.’

It awoke her first comfortable smile.

Experience had, however, shown him that such occasions might be survived, and he was less to be pitied than his daughter, who felt as if she and her great brown face would be the mark of all beholders.  Poor Sophy! all scenes were to her like daguerreotypes in a bad light, she saw nothing but herself distorted!

And yet she was glad that the period of anticipation had consumed itself and its own horrors, and found herself not insensible to the excitement of the occasion.  Lucy was joyous beyond description, looking very pretty, and solicitously decorating her sister, while both bestowed the utmost rapture on their step-mother’s appearance.

Having learnt at last what Bayford esteemed a compliment, she had commissioned her London aunts to send her what she called ’an unexceptionable garment,’ and so well did they fulfil their orders, that not only did her little son scream, ‘Mamma, pretty, pretty!’ and Gilbert stand transfixed with admiration, but it called forth Mr. Kendal’s first personal remark, ‘Albinia, you look remarkably well;’ and Mrs. Meadows reckoned among the honours done to her Maria, that Mrs. Kendal wore a beautiful silk dress, and a lace bonnet, sent down on purpose from London!

Maria Meadows made a very nice bride, leaning on her brother-in-law, and not more agitated than became her well.  The haggard restless look had long been gone, repose had taken away the lean sharpness of countenance, the really pretty features had fair play, and she was astonishingly like her niece Lucy, and did not look much older.  Her bridegroom was so beaming and benignant, that it might fairly be hoped that even if force of habit should bring back fretfulness, he had a stock of happiness sufficient for both.  The chairs were jammed so tight round the table, that it was by a desperate struggle that people took their seats, and Mr. Dusautoy’s conversation was a series of apologies for being unable to keep his elbows out of his neighbours’ way while carving, and poor Sophy, whose back was not two feet from the fire, was soon obliged to retreat.  She had gained the door before any one perceived her, and then her brother and sister both followed; Albinia was obliged to leave her to their care, being in the innermost recesses, where moving was impossible.

There was not much the matter, she only wanted rest, and Gilbert undertook to see her safely home.

‘I shall be heartily glad to get away,’ he said.  ’There is no breathing in there, and they’ll begin talking the most intolerable nonsense presently.  Besides, I want to be at home to take baby down to the gate to halloo at the four white horses from the King’s Head.  Come along, Sophy.’