The moment for immediate action had come; else all chance of Italy might be lost for the year 1846.

"We must be married directly," wrote Browning on the morning when this intelligence arrived.
Next day a marriage license was procured.

On the following morning, Saturday, September 12th, accompanied by her maid Wilson, Miss Barrett, after a sleepless night, left her father's house with feet that trembled; she procured a fly, fortified her shaken nerves with a dose of sal volatile at a chemist's shop, and drove to Marylebone Church, where the marriage service was celebrated in the presence of two witnesses.

As she stood and knelt her central feeling was one of measureless trust, a deep rest upon assured foundations; other women who had stood there supported by their nearest kinsfolk--parents or sisters--had one happiness she did not know; she needed it less because she was happier than they.[38] Then husband and wife parted.

Mrs Browning drove to the house of her blind friend, Mr Boyd, who had been made aware of the engagement.