Then Miss Verinder, comprehending the cause of his solecism, rose at once; doing what she had always done for his sake, smashing through the barriers of convention, trampling etiquette under foot, caring not twopence halfpenny what anybody else thought about it. She stood by his side, proudly, yet demurely, as ready now to brave the world, to defy the universe, as she had been twenty-seven years ago.
Mildred, looking round, watched them; and because of her own happiness and something that seemed to her very wonderful in the expression of those two faces, she unexpectedly began to cry. As she said afterwards, the thing seemed to her, somehow, so sweet and touching.
The clergyman, after clearing his throat, had gone straight ahead with the little list:
“...Also between Anthony Penfold Dyke, widower, of the parish of Endells, in Devonshire, ... and Emmeline Constance Verinder, spinster, of this parish.”
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Note. Readers will of course understand that the author is not accusing this great traveller, nor hinting the faintest disparagement of his quietly matured plans. Miss Verinder’s indignation is logically baseless. It is merely the characteristic of her extreme partisanship.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors have been repaired. Inconsistent hyphenation and period spelling was retained. Where misprinted and missing words had obvious substitutions, they are listed below. There are still several places in the text where missing or misprinted words could not be replaced with certainty of the author’s intention, and they have been left as the printer printed them.