"In there," said the man, pointing to the vestry. "Go in that way and you will see him."
Forcing her way through the throng, Georgia hurried on, passed into the sanctuary, and from thence to the vestry.
There she paused—restored to herself. Nearly a dozen clergymen were there, standing in groups, conversing with several ladies and gentlemen, who had come too late to get into the church, and had been forced to remain there to listen. All eyes were turned on the new-comer, whose pale, wild beauty made her an object of deep interest, as she stood startled and hesitating in the door-way. A little boy, standing near, looked up and said, curiously:
"Did you want anybody, ma'am?"
"Yes—Mr. Wildair. Is he here?" said Georgia, hurriedly.
"Yes'm, there he is," said the boy, pointing to where stood the man she was in search of, standing by himself, his forehead leaning on his hand, and a look of utter fatigue and weariness on his face.
All Georgia's eagerness returned at the sight. Passing rapidly through the wondering spectators she approached him, and, with an irrepressible cry of "Charley!" she stood before him.
Looking very much surprised, as well he might, the young clergyman lifted up his head and fixed his eyes full on her face; but there was no recognition in that look, nothing but the utmost wonder.
"Oh, Charley! don't you know me?—don't you know Georgia?" she cried out, passionately.
Instantly he started up.