. and Mrs. Penny;--the tranter conspicuous by his enormous gloves,
size eleven and three-quarters, which appeared at a distance like boxing
gloves bleached, and sat rather awkwardly upon his brown hands; this hall-
mark of respectability having been set upon himself to-day (by Fancy's
special request) for the first time in his life.

"The proper way is for the bridesmaids to walk together," suggested
Fancy.

"What? 'Twas always young man and young woman, arm in crook, in my
time!" said Geoffrey, astounded.

"And in mine!" said the tranter.

"And in ours!" said Mr. and Mrs. Penny.

"Never heard o' such a thing as woman and woman!" said old William; who,
with grandfather James and Mrs. Day, was to stay at home.

"Whichever way you and the company like, my dear!" said Dick, who, being
on the point of securing his right to Fancy, seemed willing to renounce
all other rights in the world with the greatest pleasure. The decision
was left to Fancy.

"Well, I think I'd rather have it the way mother had it," she said, and
the couples moved along under the trees, every man to his maid.

"Ah!" said grandfather James to grandfather William as they retired, "I
wonder which she thinks most about, Dick or her wedding raiment!"

"Well, 'tis their nature," said grandfather William. "Remember the words
of the prophet Jeremiah: 'Can a maid forget her ornaments, or a bride her
attire?'"

Now among dark perpendicular firs, like the shafted columns of a
cathedral; now through a hazel copse, matted with primroses and wild
hyacinths; now under broad beeches in bright young leaves they threaded
their way into the high road over Yalbury Hill, which dipped at that
point directly into the village of Geoffrey Day's parish; and in the
space of a quarter of an hour Fancy found herself to be Mrs. Richard
Dewy, though, much to her surprise, feeling no other than Fancy Day
still.

On the circuitous return walk through the lanes and fields, amid much
chattering and laughter, especially when they came to stiles, Dick
discerned a brown spot far up a turnip field.

"Why, 'tis Enoch!" he said to Fancy. "I thought I missed him at the
house this morning. How is it he's left you?"

"He drank too much cider, and it got into his head, and they put him in
Weatherbury stocks for it. Father was obliged to get somebody else for a
day or two, and Enoch hasn't had anything to do with the woods since."

"We might ask him to call down to-night. Sto