"Here they are!"
The plural pronoun, however, was not justified by the event, for, on opening the door, only one person was visible, and that was my uncle's valet.
"Why, what! How's this? Where's the Captain?" exclaimed my uncle. "Speak low," he added, pointing to the drawing-room, as a sign he did not wish Daphne to hear.
"Captain Willard is not at the church, sir," whispered the man.
"Not—at—the—church?" repeated my uncle, pausing with astonishment between each word.
"No, sir. At least he hadn't arrived by the time I left. I have been waiting for him, and that's what has made me so long."
"What time did you leave the church?"
"Quarter past ten."
"And he was to have been there at half past nine!" cried my uncle.
"The Vicar wishes to know what you are going to do," said the valet. "Is he or his curate to come and perform the ceremony here?"