There they grouped themselves about the bridal pair. Graham stood close to his grandmother, Suzanna near to Miss Massey, Peter and Maizie at Robert's right hand.
The minister began: "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together—" and on through the beautiful old ceremony.
He came at length to this question: "Who giveth this woman to this man?" and paused simply in custom. And old John Massey was far distant, nursing his anger and yet sad, too, because he would not in his temper attend the marriage of his daughter, though most lovingly and pleadingly had that daughter begged his presence. And the girl's mother was lying out on a hillside—where she had lain for many a long year.
And the waiting bride had tears in her heart, till, suddenly, Drusilla, with a beautiful light in her eyes, stepped forward. She put her white-veined old hand softly on the bride's arm, and she said in a low clear voice:
"I do—I give this woman to this man."
And the mother spirit in her spoke so richly that the bride all at once felt happy and a little awed, too, as though her own mother had for the moment raised herself and spoken.
And the minister went on with the ceremony till came the end: "And I pronounce that they are Man and Wife."
And Robert folded his wife in his arms and kissed her while each face, young and old, pictured the deep solemnity of the moment.
Robert's wife at last turned to Drusilla. She put her arms about the bravely upstanding figure in its old-fashioned dolman. "Oh, thank you, thank you," she murmured. "I shall never forget what you've done for me today."
The color flowed like a wave up over Drusilla's face. With a quick little breath, she leaned forward and kissed the new wife. She experienced a sudden glow. It was as though Life for the moment, forgetful that she was old and laid aside, had called her forward to fill a need no other was near to fill.