‘It must feel like this if one is diving from a high bridge,
from a railway bridge, down into a river.’
—I don’t know why I thought of a railway bridge, but I did—‘It
must feel like this, while one is waiting to jump.’
And I thought:
‘It must feel like this if one is going to be hung; counting
the days, and knowing, quite for certain, that something terrific
will happen to you in the end.’
And then I thought:
‘It has happened to other people; to Cousin Delia, and to Grandmother,
and to people I pass every day, in the street.’
And I thought:
‘If they have gone through with it, I can.’
Nunky came up with Cousin Delia, to dress me for the wedding.
I had a white satin dress, like all brides’ dresses, and a veil
that had been Mary Geraldine’s wedding veil, and roses from Yearsly,
golden and white.
There was a red carpet, and a great many people. Guy and Hugo
were there, and Mollie and George, and Anthony Cowper, and Ralph
Freeman, and his sister, and Sophia, and the Lacey girls, and
Faith Vincent, and vague cousins of mine, and cousins of Walter’s,
and Mrs. Sebright, of course, and Maud; and there were two uncles
of Walter’s; one was a schoolmaster in the North of England,
and one, a solicitor in the West; they came to London on purpose
for the wedding, and I liked them, particularly the schoolmaster;
and there were people that had to be asked, friends of Grandmother’s,
and friends of Mrs. Sebright’s.
Cousin John gave me away, and Mr. Furze was the best man, and
Mr. Vincent, from Yearsly, came up on purpose to help with the
service.
My relations sat on one side of the church, and Walter’s on the
other; there were more of mine.
There was a good deal of music. Guy had chosen a chorale that
they sang at the end; but Mrs. Sebright chose the hymns. None
of that seemed to matter very much; and afterwards there was
a party and a cake, at Campden Hill Square.
Walter was dressed in a tail coat; he looked quite different;
it made it seem queerer, somehow, and more like a dream.
I walked up the aisle of the church with Cousin John while the
choir sang ‘Oh Perfect Love, All Human Thought Transcending’;
and Walter and Mr. Furze were waiting for us at the top. I had
never been to a wedding before, and only twice to this church
when the banns were being read and Grandmother said we had better
go. It seemed odd to see Mr. Vincent there; he belonged so much
to Yearsly, and the little old church with so few people in it,
but he smiled at me, and I was glad.
Then he said the things about Holy Matrimony, and asked us the
questions, and we answered, first Walter and then I, and then
there were prayers and hymns, and the vicar of the parish preached
a sermon, and then there was the chorale that Guy had chosen—a
Bach chorale that he used to sing with the waits sometimes at
Christmas; I liked to hear that again, and I was glad that Guy
had wanted to choose it.
Then we went into the vestry and signed our names, and other
people came too, and signed their names. Cousin John and Guy
signed, and Walter’s two uncles, and they were all talking.
And I thought:
‘Now I am married. There is no escape now.’
And there seemed to be a great singing noise in the church, though
really it was quiet; a sort of noise like the sea on a beach,
or wind in trees.
Outside the vestry, Hugo was waiting. He said good-bye to me
there, for he did not come on to the party. He stopped me in
the shadow of the aisle, as I came out with Walter, and said
Good-bye.
He said:
‘Dear, God bless you. Be happy.’
And he took my hand; and then he went away; he seemed somehow
to drift away, in the shadow, at the side; and we walked down
the middle of the church to the door.
There was a motor-car outside, and we got into it. We were alone
in the motor, driving back to Campden Hill Square, and Walter
kissed me, very seriously, and we sat very still. I think he
was a little frightened too, now it was done.
The drawing-room at Campden Hill Square was full of people, and
the dining-room too; there was food in the dining-room, a wedding
cake, and ices, and claret cup, and things like a supper at a
dance; and every one came up and shook hands with Walter and
me, and talked to us; and Walter was introduced to my relations,
and I was introduced to his; and there was a great noise of people
talking all round, like there is at an evening party; it was
like an evening party, though it was only twelve o’clock.
Mr. Furze came and spoke to me too.
He said:
‘It is not very long since our first meeting, in the British
Museum. That was a very different scene!’