"But I will never say them!" and this passionate assurance to her soul gave her all the strength she needed. When the clergyman stopped speaking she looked straight into his face and in a voice low, but perfectly distinct, answered:
"I will not."
There was a moment's startled pause. Her father's voice broke it:
"Go on, sir."
But before this was possible Maria continued:
"I am the promised wife of another man. I do not love this man. I will not marry him."
Her eyes, full of pitiful entreaty, held the clergyman's eyes. He looked steadily at the company and said, "God's law and the laws of this realm forbid this marriage until such time as the truth of this allegation be tried." And with these words he walked to the altar, laid the Book of Common Prayer upon it, and then disappeared in the vestry.
Before he did so, however, there was a shrill, sharp cry of mortal pain, and Mrs. Semple was barely saved by her husband's promptitude from falling prone on the marble aisle before the chancel. Immediately all was confusion. The sick woman was carried insensible to her coach. Mr. Spencer took his sobbing sister on his arm, and the guests broke up into couples. With hurrying feet, amazed, ashamed, all talking together, they sought the vehicles that were to carry them away from a scene so painful and so unexpected. Maria sat down in the nearest pew and waited to see what would happen. She heard carriage after carriage roll away, and then realized that every one had deserted her.
In about twenty minutes the sexton began to close the church, and she asked him, "Has nobody waited for me?"
"No, miss, you be here alone." Then she took a ring from her finger and offered it to him: "Get me a closed carriage and I will give you this ring," she said, but he answered: