'It can't be helped,' said Mrs. De Witt, 'so here goes!' And she drew on her military coat to hide the wreck.
'Now, then, parson, cast off! Elijah, you stand on the right, and Glory on the left.'
The curate sneezed violently and rubbed his nose, and then his inflamed eyes. The dust of the flowering grass got even into that mouldy church, rank with grave odours and rotting timber. He began with the Exhortation. Mrs. De Witt followed each sentence with attention and appropriate gesture.
'"Is not to be enterprised nor taken in hand unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly,"' she repeated, with solemn face and in an awestruck whisper; then, poking the boys in the gallery with her umbrella, 'Just you listen to that, you cubs!' Then she nodded and gesticulated at the firstly, secondly, and thirdly of the address to those whom she thought needed impressing with the solemn words. Elijah answered loudly to the questions asked him whether he would have the girl at his side to be his wedded wife. Her answer was faint and reluctantly given.
'"Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?"'
There was a pause.
'Speak up, Mistress Sharland, speak up!' said Mrs. De Witt in a tone of authority. 'Or, if you don't speak, curtsey.'
The curate was affected with a violent sneezing fit. When he recovered he went on.
Rebow clasped Mehalah's hand firmly, and firmly repeated the sentences after the priest.
'"I, Elijah, take thee——"' began the curate; then asked, in a whisper, 'What is the bride's name?'