Sybil was exquisitely lovely as she went by on old Mr. Sherwood’s arm. The old gentleman had consented to assume a civilized garb for once in his life, and looked pleased with his aged self, as well he might be, seeing that the engagement had been made under his roof. Then Ronald passed, paler than usual, but certainly the handsomest man present, carrying himself with a new dignity, as though he knew himself a better man than ever in being found worthy of his beautiful bride. It was soon over, and the crowd streamed out after the bride and bridegroom.
“Hallo, Harrington, how are you?” said Vancouver, overtaking John as he turned into the road. “You had better get in with me and drive out. I have not seen you for an age.”
John stood still and surveyed Vancouver with a curiously calm air of absolute superiority.
“Thank you very much,” he answered civilly. “I have hired a carriage to take me there. I dare say we shall meet. Good-morning.”
John had been to Sherwood some years before, but he was surprised at the change that had been wrought in honor of the marriage. The place looked inhabited, the windows were all open, and the paths had been weeded, though Sybil had not allowed the wild shrubbery to be pruned nor the box hedges to be trimmed. She loved the pathless confusion of the old grounds, and most of all she loved the dilapidated summer-house.
John shook hands with many people that he knew. Mrs. Wyndham led him aside a little way.
“Is it not just perfectly splendid?” she exclaimed. “They are so exactly suited to each other. I feel as if I had done it all. You are not at all enthusiastic.”
“On the contrary,” said John, “I am very enthusiastic. It is the best thing that could possibly have happened.”
“Then go and do likewise,” returned Mrs. Sam, laughing. Then she changed her tone. “There is a young lady here who will be very glad to see you. Go and try and cheer her up a little, can’t you?”
“Who is that?”