The crowd inside was so great, although perfectly orderly and reverent, that I could see little or nothing of the actual ceremony, and was rather glad than not when, all formalities having been complied with, our party disentangled itself from the general mêlée, and we drove back in the same order as we had come, with the addition of the bridegroom, of course.
In our absence the table had been elegantly laid with wine-glasses of every shape, colour, and size, borrowed right and left for the occasion, each with half a sheet of clean notepaper stuck in it. I puzzled over these for some time, till I came to the conclusion that possibly this was in imitation of the serviettes placed in wine-glasses at restaurants.
As each guest appeared, he or she was hospitably pressed to say what he or she would take (“Give it a nyme!” was the general form of invitation), and he or she usually seemed quite prepared for the question and quite ready with an answer, for without any false delicacy they promptly replied, “Drop o’ port!” This was immediately handed them, and there they sat in a row, never opening their mouths except to empty into them the aforesaid “drop o’ port.”
I was sorely troubled as to what to do with mine, which I would have gladly refused only that I was warned that it was considered as great an insult as to refuse in the real East to drink the cup of black coffee offered at the threshold; so there I sat with the rest, occasionally raising it to my lips, till an opportunity offered to stick it behind a flower-pot, where it may remain to this day for all I know.
The honeymoon was to be spent on Hampstead Heath, and we were pressed to accompany the party, but excused ourselves as politely as possible and shortly after took leave, as everyone was obviously aching to be off, though far too polite to say so.
Our presence had added great éclat to the proceedings in the opinion of our hosts, and when we took leave the bridegroom insisted on presenting each of us with seven Tangerine oranges!
Now he was by profession a fruiterer, and a kind Providence had thoughtfully endowed him with hands so large that he could easily hold seven oranges (or anything else for the matter of that) in one. My hands, unluckily, are not on the same liberal scale; consequently when he dropped the seven oranges into them, about six were bound to fall on the ground in spite of all my efforts. Of course, they rolled into all sorts of inaccessible corners, after their perverse nature; but the company collected them with unfailing good-humour, and my secret hope that one or two of them at least might be irrevocably lost was not realised.
We left Belinda Ann behind to share the forthcoming trip, and soon found ourselves in an omnibus rolling westwards.
“I never refuse little gifts of this kind,” said Miss H., as she rescued an orange from bounding out of the door, “for it seems more friendly to accept. Besides, I know if they send or give me sixpennyworth of lemons, I can readily make it up to them later on by something costing half-a-crown.”
I assented, and then remarked dreamily, “Those hats are the most wonderful erections!”