The wedding was to be at eight o'clock in the evening, and nearly all the village was bidden to it--even many of the Unitarian faction who had been Parson Fair's old parishioners.

At half-past seven o'clock the street was full of people.

The village women rustled through the soft dusk with silken whispers of wide best skirts.

Young girls with spring buds in their hair flounced about with white muslins, and fluttering with ribbons, flitted along.

The men, holding back firmly their best broadcloth shoulders, marched past in their creaking Sunday shoes.