On entering the door, he looked about him, saw the well-dressed and expectant company, the dainty baskets of flowers, the bountifully loaded table in the little dining-room, all the preparations for his day of happiness, but he saw nowhere the person who gave to him the significance of the occasion.
Mr. Snow greeted him cordially, and introduced him to those who stood near.
"Well, parson, where's the little woman?" he said, at last, in a voice so loud that all heard the startling question. Miss Butterworth heard him, and laughed.
"Just hear him!" she exclaimed to the busy girl, whose work was now hurrying to a close. "If he doesn't astonish them before he gets through, I shall be mistaken. I do think it's the most ridiculous thing. Now isn't it! The idea!"
Miss Snow, in the general character of outside manager and future companion of the bride, hurried to Jim's side at once, and said:
"Oh, Mr. Fenton!"
"Jest call me Jim."
"No, no, I won't. Now, Mr. Fenton, really! you can't see her until she is ready!"
"Oh can't I!" and Jim smiled.
Miss Snow had the impression, prevalent among women, that a bridegroom has no rights so long as they can keep him out of them, and that it is their privilege to fight him up to the last moment.