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CHAPTER IX

ST. GEORGE'S CHURCH

HANOVER SQUARE

HERE is a wedding in this famous old church this June morning-a morning filled with tears and sunshine for it rains and clears up every fifteen minutes. I watch the carriages drive up, huge boutonières in the lapels of the drivers, their whips tied with ribbons, and from my vantage ground on the back seat of my taxi I get the shimmer of silk and lace, sombre black coats, and white shirt-fronts.

Two lines of spectators fringing the carpet conceal the bride and her maids of honour, as they trip from their equipages under umbrellas, for there is no awning as is usual with us. Then come the muffled strains of the organ, and later on the party emerge, again are swallowed up in the various cabs and carriages, and are whirled away, and the two lines of spectators melt together the women and children helping themselves to the flowers scattered over the rain-soaked carpet and porch.

In half an hour another party drives up and the same scene is enacted, except, perhaps, that this second bride catches the sunshine in her face, whilst the lace and orange

blossoms of the first were spattered with rain-drops-and so the game goes on. Five weddings a day in St. George's, Hanover Square, is about the average in the season, and June marks its height.

If I have read my "Newcomes" aright, little has been changed here since that other morning in June 18, except, perhaps, that the costumes and appointments of the contracting parties are less elaborate, and the social eminence of their guests less exalted.

Indeed few weddings of the day have ever surpassed that of Barnes Newcome and Lady Clara Pulleyn.

than

"Finer flounces, finer bonnets, more lovely wreaths, more beautiful lace, smarter carriages, bigger white bows, larger footmen, were not seen, during all the season of 18appeared round about St. George's, Hanover Square, in the beautiful month of June succeeding that September when so many of our friends, the Newcomes, were assembled at Baden. Those flaunting carriages, powdered and favoured footmen, were in attendance upon members of the Newcome family and their connections, who were celebrating what is called a marriage in high life in the temple within. Shall we set down a catalogue of the dukes, marquises, earls, who were present, cousins of the lovely bride? Lady Clara Pulleyn, the lovely and accomplished daughter of the Earl and Countess of Dorking; of the beautiful bridesmaids, the Ladies Henrietta Belinda Adelaide Pulleyn, Miss Newcome, Miss Alice Newcome, Miss Maude Newcome, Miss Anna Maria (Hobson) Newcome; and all the other persons engaged in the ceremony. It was performed by the Right Honourable and Right Reverend Viscount Gal

lowglass, Bishop of Ballyshannon, brother-in-law to the bride, assisted by the Honourable and Reverend Hercules O'Grady, his lordship's chaplain, and the Reverend John Bulders, rector of St. Mary's Newcome."

From among the throngs of lookers on, had I had the heart I could, no doubt, myself, have picked out that:

"Woman of vulgar appearance and disorderly aspect, accompanied by two scared children, who took no part in the disorder occasioned by their mother's proceeding, except by their tears and outcries to augment the disquiet," and who "made her appearance in one of the pews of the church, was noted there by persons in the vestry, was requested to retire by a beadle, and was finally induced to quit the sacred precincts of the building by the very strongest persuasion of a couple of policemen; X and Y laughed at one another, and nodded their heads knowingly as the poor wretch, with her whimpering boys, was led away. They understood very well who the personage was who had come to disturb the matrimonial ceremony; it did not commence until Mrs. De Lacy (as this lady chose to be called) had quitted this temple of Hymen. She slunk through the throng of emblazoned carriages, and the press of footmen arrayed as spendidly as Solomon in his glory. John jeered at Thomas, William turned his powdered head, and signalled Jeames, who answered with a corresponding grin, as the woman, with sobs, and wild imprecations, and frantic appeals, made her way through the splendid crowd, escorted by her aides-de-camp in blue."

Such tragedies, no doubt, are of common occurrence within the portals of St. George, and if one were in search

of material for a book, instead of line and mass for a picture, he could hardly do better than hang around this famous old Church, and study the faces that come and go.

Evins had his opinions, and did not hesitate to express them.

"Some on 'em will wish they hadn't never seen the place before they're five year older, sir. I took a young chit of a girl and her mother to them steps last winter, both on 'em rigged out amazin', and a man old enough to be her grandfather was waitin' for her, and blame me if the two didn't stand up together and were married right 'fore my eyes, for I left my car across the street and went in, thinkin' somethin' was goin' to happen, and it did.

"They come out together, and the two, seein' I was not by the curb, called to one of our drivers and got in, leavin' the mother on the stoop, and up comes a young fellow with his eyes a blazin' and shakes his fist in her face, and says, 'It's all your fault,' and while I was wonderin' what was up, he shoved her into a four-wheeler and jumped in himself, and I didn't even get my fare. What do you think o' that, sir? And so I say it would be better if some of these loon-atics stayed at home."

When the last touch had been put on my sketch, I directed Evins to run the car to the entrance of the Church that I might get a closer and more detailed view of what had heretofore been but a mass of broken grays against a luminous sky.

The débris of the last wedding were still to be seen; the carpet had been rolled back, to be unrolled again when the