went. His groom
trotted after him, touching his hat as he passed the carriage.

But not a word had he spoken to Decima Verner, not a look had he given
her. The omission was unnoticed by the others; not by Decima. The
crimson of her cheeks had faded to an ashy paleness, and she silently
let fall her veil to hide it.

What secret understanding could there be between herself and Sir Rufus
Hautley?

CHAPTER XLI.

A SPECIAL VISION TOUCHING MRS. PECKABY.

Not until summer, when the days were long and the nights short, did the
marriage of Lionel Verner take place. Lady Verner declined to be present
at it: Decima and Lucy _were_. It was a grand ceremony, of course; that
is, it would have been grand, but for an ignominious interruption which
occurred to mar it. At the very moment they were at the altar, Lionel
placing the ring on his bride's finger, and all around wrapt in
breathless silence, in a transport of enthusiasm, the bride's-maids
uncertain whether they must go off in hysterics or not, there tore into
the church Master Dan Duff, in a state of extreme terror and ragged
shirt sleeves, fighting his way against those who would have impeded
him, and shouting out at the top of his voice: "Mother was took with the
cholic, and she'd die right off if Mr. Jan didn't make haste to her."
Upon which Jan, who had positively no more sense of what was due to
society than Dan Duff himself had, went flying away there and then,
muttering something about "those poisonous mushrooms." And so they were
made man and wife; Lionel, in his heart of hearts, doubting if he did
not best love Lucy Tempest.

A breakfast at Dr. West's: Miss Deborah and Miss Amilly not in the least
knowing (as they said afterwards) how they comported themselves at it;
and then Lionel and his bride departed. He was taking her to Paris,
which Sibylla had never seen.

Leaving them to enjoy its attractions--and Sibylla, at any rate, would
not fail to do so--we must give another word to that zealous missionary,
Brother Jarrum.

The seed, scattered broadcast by Brother Jarrum, had had time to
fructify. He had left the glowing promises of all that awaited them, did
they decide to voyage out to New Jerusalem, to take root in the
imaginations of his listeners, and absented himself for a time from
Deerham. This may have been crafty policy on Brother Jarrum's part; or
may have resulted from necessity. It was hardly likely that so talented
and enlightened an apos