room, because the guests might not see the bride till they were all seated in the carriages. Then she appeared on the stone steps at Emanuel's side. She wore a black woollen dress with narrow lace at the throat and wrists. Under the bridal veil and wreath of myrtle she had a closely fitting cap, thickly embroidered with gold and beads, which had been part of her great-grandmother's bridal costume. She wore it to-day by Emanuel's special wish. The lunch had loosened the tongues of many of the men already, and there was plenty of gossip on the way to church. The buzz only died down when they came within sound of the bells, and Else began to cry. Hansine, on the contrary, kept the fixed and reserved expression which was usual to her in moments of strong emotion. The church, the haze, the blue shallows of the Fiord, and the opposite shore—all lay bathed in golden sunshine. Clouds of starlings skimmed along, and white gulls were screaming over the water.
On reaching the churchyard wall the bishop's gig was seen, and the bishop himself was standing in front of the church door in his silk gown and with his orders on his breast to receive them. It was a solemn and memorable moment for them all, when—uncovering his white head—he went to meet the bridal pair, and led the way into the church at the head of the procession.
The address was short and in the tone of an ordinary speech. The bishop belonged to those
