"Oh, George!" She held primitive principles with regard to strong drink, though already she was reconciled to the fact that he smoked innumerable cigarettes. "Is it so shocking?" he asked, with an indulgent smile.
"Well," she said uneasily, "you see, we think temperance so important. Beer I can understand, in strict moderation, though I don't approve of it; we always keep a small cask in the cupboard under the stairs in case it should be wanted, and, of course, there is a little brandy in my medicine chest; we use it, too, for moistening the jam papers. But we haven't any whisky!"
He perceived that the imbibing of spirits as an ordinary drink might appear to his fiancée as little less than wicked. Concealing his amusement, he explained, as a personal precaution, that though, of course, it was revolting to see a lady consume alcohol, unless by the doctor's orders, it was, taken judiciously, harmless, if not beneficial, to men, particularly to men accustomed to a hot climate; thus allaying her scruples and fears on his own behalf. He accepted a large cup of tea in preference to beer from the cupboard under the stairs, or brandy from the medicine chest, both of which Rafella proffered hospitably after his reassurance.
The wedding took place a fortnight before Coventry was to sail for India. One or two trivial disputes arose between the affianced pair, and on each occasion George's will prevailed. For example over the trousseau. It appeared that Rafella was entitled, on her twenty-first birthday, or on her marriage, to the legacy of a hundred pounds bequeathed to her by her godmother. She maintained that the half of this sum would be ample for her outfit, and she was on the point of engaging the village dressmaker to work daily at the vicarage, when George interfered. Though he did not wish Rafella to be anything but simply dressed, he had a suspicion that Under-edge fashions might be regarded as somewhat peculiar in an Indian military station. Therefore he insisted that her "costumes," as she called them, should at least be ordered in the little country town, under the guidance of his mother and sister, in whose taste he had implicit confidence. The result enchanted all concerned, though certainly it might have evoked contempt on the part of the more fastidious.
At any rate, in Coventry's eyes, and in the opinion of all present at the wedding, Rafella looked lovely as a bride; and, indeed, it was a very pretty ceremony, altogether, in its idyllic simplicity. The autumn day was radiant with sunshine, the kind of day when spiders' webs hang sparkling and perfect, as though spun with tiny crystal beads, and the air is still and humid; when the foliage, all red and gold, strikes wonder, and the blackberries are ripe and round and purple. The little church was decked with brilliant leaves and berries, and the pews were as well filled as if it had been Christmas Day. Not that any formal invitations had been issued; the only wedding guests from any distance were the bridegroom's near relations (he had few besides), and the bride's only aunt, who had consented to come and live at the vicarage and to join her small income to that of her brother. But the entire village was present in Sunday garments, save those who were bedridden and had been left without compunction to take care of themselves for the time. Rafella's only aunt did successful battle with the unwilling harmonium, and with much solemn emotion the vicar married his daughter to Captain Coventry.
It may be added that the bridegroom also had his way, after all, about the hymn, and it was sung by the congregation with a raucous fervour that stirred George Coventry to the depths of his being, for he could not help investing the words with a personal application, in spite of Rafella's previous protests to the contrary.
So the newly married pair sailed a fortnight later for India; and the unsophisticated daughter of an obscure country parson found herself launched without preparation into a world that to her was completely bewildering. From the stagnation of English village existence, and from relative hardship, she went straight into the activities, contradictions, and comparative luxuries of life in a large Indian station, a life that, perhaps, has no actual parallel anywhere else on earth.