'How ill-omened!' murmured Viviette.
But the parson came out robed at this moment, and the clerk put on his
ecclesiastical countenance and looked in his book. Lady Constantine's
momentary languor passed; her blood resumed its courses with a new
spring. The grave utterances of the church then rolled out upon the
palpitating pair, and no couple ever joined their whispers thereto with
more fervency than they.
Lady Constantine (as she continued to be called by the outside world,
though she liked to think herself the Mrs. St. Cleeve that she legally
was) had told Green that she might be expected at Welland in a day, or
two, or three, as circumstances should dictate. Though the time of
return was thus left open it was deemed advisable, by both Swithin and
herself, that her journey back should not be deferred after the next day,
in case any suspicions might be aroused. As for St. Cleeve, his comings
and goings were of no consequence. It was seldom known whether he was at
home or abroad, by reason of his frequent seclusion at the column.
Late in the afternoon of the next day he accompanied her to the Bath
station, intending himself to remain in that city till the following
morning. But when a man or youth has such a tender article on his hands
as a thirty-hour bride it is hardly in the power of his strongest reason
to set her down at a railway, and send her off like a superfluous
portmanteau. Hence the experiment of parting so soon after their union
proved excruciatingly severe to these. The evening was dull; the breeze
of autumn crept fitfully through every slit and aperture in the town; not
a soul in the world seemed to notice or care about anything they did.
Lady Constantine sighed; and there was no resisting it,--he could not
leave her thus. He decided to get into the train with her, and keep her
company for at least a few stations on her way.
It drew on to be a dark night, and, seeing that there was no serious risk
after all, he prolonged his journey with her so far as to the junction at
which the branch line to Warborne forked off. Here it was necessary to
wait a few minutes, before either he could go back or she could go on.
They wandered outside the station doorway into the gloom of the road, and
there agreed to part.
While she yet stood holding his arm a phaeton sped towards the station-
entrance, where, in ascending the slope to the door, the horse suddenly
jibbed. The gentleman who was driving, being either impatient, or
possessed with a theory that all jibbers may be started by severe
whipping, applied the lash; as a result of it, the horse thrust round the
carriage to where they stood, and the end of the driver's sweeping whip
cut across Lady Constantine's face with such severity as to cause her an
involuntary cry. Swithin turned her round to the lamplight, and
discerned a streak of blood on her cheek.