"'Twill be a fact, no doubt?" said Mr. M'Cosh.
"Certainly," said the lawyer.
"Then, of course," said the mate, "I shall always be able to swear to it."
"Ten past ten," cried the captain, whipping out his watch. "I hope Miss Moggadore's not keeping the ladies waiting whilst she powders herself, or fits a new cap to her hair."
He opened the door to call to the steward, then hopped back with a sudden convulsive sea bow to make room for the ladies who were approaching.
My darling was very white and looked at me piteously. She came to my side, and slipped her hand into mine, whispering under her breath, "Such a silly, senseless ceremony!" I pressed her fingers, and whispered back that the ceremony was not for us, but for Aunt Amelia. She wore her hat and jacket, and Mrs. Barstow was clad as for the deck; but Miss Moggadore, on the other hand, as though in justification of what the captain had said about her, made her appearance in the most extraordinary cap I had ever seen: an inflated arrangement, as though she were fresh from a breeze of wind that held it bladder-like. She had changed her gown, too, for a sort of Sunday dress of satin or some such material. She curtseyed on entering, and took up her position alongside of M'Cosh, where she stood viewing the company with an austere gaze, which so harmonised with the dry, literal, sober stare of the mate, that I had to turn my back upon her to save a second explosion of laughter.
"Are we all ready?" said the little captain, in the voice of a man who might hail his mate to tell him to prepare to put the ship about, and M'Cosh mechanically answered:
"Ay, ay, sir, all ready."
On this the captain went to the table, where lay a big Church Service in large type, and putting on his glasses, looked at us over them, as a hint for us to take our places. He then began to read, so slowly that I foresaw unless he skipped many of the passages we should be detained half the morning in his cabin. He read with extravagant enjoyment of the sound of his own voice, and constantly lifted his eyes, whilst he delivered the sentences as though he were admonishing instead of marrying us. Grace held her head hung, and I felt her trembling when I took her hand. I had flattered myself that I should exhibit no nervousness in such an ordeal as this, but though I was not sensible of any disposition to tears, I must confess that my secret agitation was incessantly prompting me to laughter of an hysterical sort, which I restrained with struggles that caused me no small suffering. It is at such times as these, perhaps, that the imagination is most inconveniently active.
The others stood behind me; I could not see them; it would have eased me, I think, had I been able to do so. The thought of M'Cosh's face, the fancy of Miss Moggadore's cap grew dreadfully oppressive, through my inability to vent myself of the emotions they induced. My distress was increased by the mate's pronunciation of the word "Amen." He was always late with it, as though waiting for the others to lead the way, unless it was that he chose to take a "thocht" before committing himself. My wretchedness was heightened by the effect of this lonely Amen, whose belatedness he accentuated by the fervent manner in which he breathed it out.