She handed back the golden cup to her father, who was about to set it down upon a side table, when the Teacher spoke.
"Are you going to leave me out of your ceremony?" Joseph said.
"Very sorry, very sorry," the baronet replied, in confusion. "I wasn't quite sure." He handed the cup to Joseph, but the Teacher only lifted it on high. "May God bless your union, my dear brother and sister," he said simply, and placed it on a table nearby.
The deep music of the voice, the love in it, the deep sincerity, came to them all like a benison.
"You have given me everything in this world and hopes of everything in the next, Joseph," said Sir Thomas Ducaine.
"You were Lluellyn's friend," Mary whispered.
"And you're a jolly good fellow, Mr. Joseph," said Sir Augustus, "in spite of all your critics, and I shall be glad to say so always."
At that, for the first time during their knowledge of him, Joseph began to laugh. His merriment was full-throated and deep, came from real amusement and pleasure, was mirth unalloyed.
Joseph finished his laughter. "May this hour," he said gravely, "be the beginning of a long, joyous and God-fearing life for you, Mary and Thomas. Hand in hand and heart to heart may you do the work of the Lord."
Then, with a bow to all of the company assembled there, he went away.