(All this the Reverend Hugh declaimed in his most distinct Chapel voice, but still with his searching eyes upon the face of the husband-to-be.)
The idea of most young girls, in getting married, he thought, was to get a nice home of their own, as soon as possible. A comfortable house----
("I hate comfortable houses. So stuffy. Just like a tea-cosy. They'd _smother_ me!" from Gwenna.)
But the House, her Uncle Hugh had _Olwês_ understood, was the Woman's fetish. Spring-cleaning, now; the yearly rites! And that furniture. "The Lares," he went on in an ever-strengthening Welsh accent. "The Pen--nates----!"
"Oh, _those_!" scoffed the girl in love. "_Those_----!"
So Gwenna didn't seem to think she would miss these things? She was willing to marry without them? Yes? Strange!... Well, well!
And what about this marriage-in-haste? Where was it to take place? In that Church in Hampstead? A Church. Well! He, as an orthodox dissenting minister, ought not, perhaps, to enter such a place of worship. But, after all, this was not at home. This was only up here, in England. Perhaps it wouldn't matter, just this once.
And who was the clergyman who was going to officiate at the cerrymonny? And what sort of a preacher, now, was _he_? (This was not known.)
And Mr. Dampier's own relations? Would they all be at the Church?
Only one cousin, he was told. That was the only relation Paul Dampier had left.
"Same as myself," said the Reverend Hugh, a little quietly. "A big family, we were. Six boys, two girls; like people used to have. All gone. Nothing left, but----"
Here, for the first time taking his eyes from young Dampier, he turned upon his niece with an abrupt question. With a quick nod towards her husband-to-be, he demanded: "And where did you find _him_?"
Little Gwenna, still on the defensive, but thawing gradually (since, after all, Uncle Hugh had spoken in friendly tones to the Beloved), Gwenna asked, "When, Uncle?"
"The time that counts, my girl," said the Reverend Hugh; "the first time."
"Oh! I think it was--it was at a party I went to with my friend, Miss Long, that I've told you about," explained Gwenna, a little nervously. "And--and he was there. It's--_quite_ a long time ago, now."
"Dear me," said the Reverend Hugh. "Dukes! There is a lot of things seem to go on, still, under the name of 'Party.'" And there was a sudden and quite young twinkle in the eyes under the white thatch.