He found the rabbi already established at the table. He observed, with a half contemptuous, half annoyed, sense of its childishness, that the rabbi had discarded his customary white cravat for a black one—a thing which he never did except when he had a funeral to conduct.
The two men covered their heads. The rabbi intoned his grace. The servant brought in the eatables. Elias asked her to go out to the livery-stable, and order a carriage for a quarter to eight. She had been employed in the Bacharach household as long as Elias could remember, this servant, Maggie. Now she felt entitled to display a little friendly curiosity.
“Excuse me,” said she, “for asking; but is it true, Mr. Elias, that you're going to get married to-night?”
Elias was about to answer, when the rabbi interposed:
“Who has been putting such a notion into your head? Of course, it isn't true. When Mr. Elias gets married, you shall be invited to the wedding, Maggie.”
Elias did not care to join his uncle in debate. Maggie went off upon her errand. They dined without speaking. The gentle clink of their knives and forks sounded painfully distinct.
Elias's excitement, his nervousness, his impatience, were constantly becoming more intense. At every unexpected noise, no matter how slight or how commonplace, at every footstep in the hall, at every clatter of dishes in the kitchen, at every gust of wind upon the window-pane, he started and caught his breath. He felt his heart alternately growing hot and cold. Now it would leap with joy, at the thought of what was so near at hand; now it would cease beating, in spasmodic terror of some unknown calamity. It began to gallop tempestuously, when at last Elias heard the carriage rattle up, and stop before the house. “Oh,” he told himself, “it's only the way any man in my place would feel. One doesn't get married every day in the week.” His cheeks burned. His mouth was dry and feverish. His hands gave off a cold perspiration, and they shook like those of an old man.
The rabbi entered the carriage. Elias, having instructed the coachman where to drive, followed. The carriage moved off.
“At a church?” questioned the rabbi.
“No; at their house,” replied Elias.