y!"

"Hooray!" cheered the crowd, in broken but hearty volleys.
Handkerchiefs were waved, flowers thrown, the buzz of excitement was at
its height when the proud bridegroom strode forward with his blushing
bride, bright, almost radiant in her white drapery, as, slightly
flushed, she smiled and bowed in acknowledgment of the greetings of the
little ones whom she had often taught, now casting their simple flowery
offerings at her feet; or with gentle glance thanked some old villager
for the blessing invoked upon her head. Progress was made but slowly:
they had advanced but a couple of yards from the porch, and Sir Murray,
hat in hand, was intending to wave it in response to the greeting he was
receiving, when he felt his wife's arm snatched from his, and turned to
see her with her hands clasped together and raised to the height of her
face; the smile gone; a deadly stony pallor overspreading her features;
her eyes starting, lips apart--it was as though death had smitten her in
an instant; for with one stride the stranger had confronted her, his
hand was upon her breast, and he had torn away the bunch of
forget-me-nots, to dash them upon the ground, and crush them beneath his
heel.

There was no word spoken: the language was of the eye; and the crowd
around, who could see the incident, seemed paralysed, as was the
bridegroom; but at that instant a wild and piercing shriek rang out from
the porch, and there was a sharp movement in the group.

But that cry was not from Lady Gernon, who stood as if turned to stone;
for as Sir Murray, recovering himself, had, pale with rage and
mortification, exclaimed, "How dare you!" Ada Lee had sprung forward,
and almost thrown herself upon the stranger's breast, pressing him back
from her cousin, as she glided between them.

It was but in time; for, mad with rage and hatred, roused by his words,
the newcomer had half-turned now to Sir Murray; but Ada clung to him
tightly, her bridesmaids veil torn, her flowers crushed, but a bright
wild look of joy and eagerness in her countenance, as she exclaimed--

"Back, Philip! Are you mad?"

Book 1, Chapter V.

TOO LATE.

"Now just you put that back where you took it from, Mr Impudence, or
I'll tell your master."

"There you are, then, my dear; that's as near the spot as I can
recollect," said the person addressed, giving Jane Barker a hearty smack
on her rosy cheek, such a liberty being a little excusable on a
wedding-day.

"Take yo