With effort she moved the length of the hall and passed through the open doors. She entered the automobile which was to carry her to the church and a new life. Clarinda peered through the glass sides and watched the things she knew so well swept by her.
As the car started off, she heard the thundering tones of the bells of the church.
The car finished its journey and stopped suddenly at the church. Some one opened the door and helped her alight. Clustered about on the pavement stood evil, curious people. They gaped with envious eyes upon the girl. Some in their envy spat upon the stones as if to give vent to their wrath. Maliciously they grinned or cursed, cruel, bitter jealousy filled their souls. They whispered and commented upon her beauty and the beauty of her gown.
Clarinda did not know they asked why. Nor that their hands were stretched out in an agony to destroy. She did not know they hated her and the things she represented. Nor did she know they thought it unfair that they should be without and she should have all. These people shivered in the heat of the day. None of them smiled. Clarinda went by them without looking. She did not see their faces, nor did she feel their comments upon her and her gown.
The church swallowed her up. It was all dark. Heavy perfume hung in the air and the gloom was smitten and torn by lights from tall candles upon the high altar. Here and there the sun sent a ray through the stained-glass windows as if to try to dispel the dark. At a distance that seemed miles to Clarinda was the high altar, covered with flowers and decorated with the insignia of the church.
As she looked down the aisle, she saw standing at the end of the chancel, a priest in garments of white and of gold. He was looking steadily towards her as she approached, and at times read from his rubric. A choir of voices in the stalls sang and the music reverberated through the church.
At the steps to the chancel, she saw another man, who was very tall; behind him stood another clothed in black as the first, like bearers at a funeral. As she stopped the bridesmaids collected in certain fixed lines about her, making bright spots in the gloom. They seemed happy, and as envious as the poor who stood at the door and cursed her in the sunlight. The priest raised his hand and prayed that an infinite God might bless this pair. He read with deep intonations.
He was old and grey, his body was bent with the weight of his years. Many had come to him in their youth. Over thousands he had intoned the same prayers and raised his hand in blessing. He had seen these thousands turn and walk away to dangers they knew nothing of, with hope in their hearts and love in their souls.
Even so, Clarinda walked to dangers she knew nothing of, as thousands had before her, with hope in her heart and infinite love in her soul. As she turned from the priest, she pushed the veil back from her face and gently placed her hand upon the arm of the man—a smile was on her lips. Calmly she walked towards the door of the church, through the searching eyes of the host.
The car bore them swiftly away from the mob and their curses. Clarinda crept close to the man at her side, and even though she smiled a tear fell down her face. Clarinda trembled and shook as she tucked herself closer and closer to his side. The man put his arm around her, drawing her lovely body to him, and wiping away the tears as they fell.