There was, in fact, a general feeling that the unknown husband of Miss Nan was scarcely worthy of the high honour that had been bestowed upon him.

His desertion of her on the very day succeeding the wedding had been freely criticised, and in many quarters condemned out of hand.

No one knew the exact circumstances of the case, but all were agreed in pronouncing Miss Nan's husband a defaulter.
That Miss Nan herself was very far from fretting over the situation was abundantly evident, but this fact did not in any way tend to justify the offender, of whom it was beginning to be opined round the bars of the village inns that he was "one o' them queer sort of cusses that it was best for women to steer clear of." Naturally these interesting shreds of gossip never reached Nan's ears.
She was, as she had ever been, supremely free from self-consciousness of any description, and it never occurred to her that the situation in which she was placed was sufficiently peculiar to cause comment.

The Everards had ever been a law unto themselves, and it was inconceivable that anyone should attempt to apply to them the conventional rules by which other people chose to let their lives be governed.

Of course they were different from the rest of the world.