There were no fashionable silk and satin-clad guests, or a body of
mighty ecclesiastics to perform the ceremony. The old rector, who had
known them both from childhood, made them man and wife, while Lord
Barminster gave the bride away. She had chosen to be but simply dressed,
and followed only by two bridesmaids--sisters of Mortimer Shelton, who
acted as best man. Among the few guests there, were also Lord Standon
and Lady Muriel Branton, soon now to be wedded themselves.
Adrien had explained the reason for his anger long ago, and Lord Standon
too fully understood to continue the coldness which had nearly spoilt
their life-long friendship.
Happy was the bride, that bright winter morning, and Adrien, as he felt
her loved arm against his side, was filled gratitude and love.
"My darling," he murmured as they emerged from the church, "we do not
need the world, you and I. We have each other, that shall be world
enough for us."
"Not to the world do I owe you, Adrien," said Lady Constance gravely,
"but to another woman." Drawing him to the marble slab, which stood
close to the porch, she bent down and placed her bridal bouquet of white
roses on the grave of Jessica.
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