“Arthur! Arthur!” she called, rushing in among them, “there’s one of your people there----”
“Hold your tongue,” said her mother in alarm. “Sarah Jane! recollect you’re in church.”
“I’m speaking to Arthur, mamma; there’s one of your people there, as sure as--as sure as anything, and Mr. Durant with her. He did not see me,” cried Sarah Jane, with an angry blush, “but I know him; and there’s a young lady and an old lady.”
“And quite natural too, and I’m very glad of it,” said Mrs. Bates. “Fancy my staying away if it was Charley’s wedding! I’ll go and ask my lady to come and have a bit of dinner.”
“It must be a mistake,” said Arthur, paler than ever; “it cannot be my mother.”
He put out his hand to stop Mrs. Bates; then he stood aghast, gazing after her. He could not leave his newly-made bride, and how could he meet his mother’s eyes?
“Oh, go--go,” said Nancy; “you needn’t mind me.” Then she herself melted, touched by the situation. “Yes, go, Arthur. I will wait for you,” she said, with something that looked almost like dignity.
He dared not take her with him. He went with mingled eagerness and reluctance, wondering, affected, ready to bless his mother, or to cast off all duty to her for ever.
He found Mrs. Bates haranguing old Davies, his mother’s maid, calling her “my lady,” and begging that she would do them the honour to come to the wedding breakfast.
“I don’t pretend to call it breakfast, it’s more like what your ladyship would call a lunch; but the young folks must have something substantial before they start on their journey--and we’ll take it so friendly, and such an honour. It is just what we were wanting, and not daring to hope for, my lady,” said Mrs. Bates, beaming. “Arthur, you can tell her ladyship--”
“Why, Davies, you!” cried Arthur, sharply, stung by sudden rage. “What are you doing here?”
“Davies! Ain’t she my lady after all?” cried Mrs. Bates.
Lucy had been almost crouching in a corner of the pew; but when she saw her brother’s troubled and worn face, she could not restrain herself.
“Oh, Arthur, how could you think mamma would come?” she said. “How could she come after the letter you sent her? But we could not let it be without one near you that loved you; and I am here,” said Lucy, coming forward, putting back her veil, the tears rushing to her eyes.