Wardour, Mrs. Helmer and Godfrey having both declined
their invitation; and no friend, except Mary for bridesmaid, and
Mr. Pycroft, a school and college friend of Tom's, who was now
making a bohemian livelihood in London by writing for the weekly
press, as he called certain journals of no high standing, for
groom's man. After the ceremony, and a breakfast provided by
Mary, the young couple took the train for London.
CHAPTER XIX.
MARY IN THE SHOP.
More than a year had now passed from the opening of my narrative.
It was full summer again at Testbridge, and things, to the
careless eye, were unchanged, and, to the careless mind, would
never change, although, in fact, nothing was the same, and
nothing could continue as it now was. For were not the earth and
the sun a little colder? Had not the moon crumbled a little? And
had not the eternal warmth, unperceived save of a few, drawn a
little nearer--the clock that measures the eternal day ticked one
tick more to the hour when the Son of Man will come? But the
greed and the fawning did go on unchanged, save it were for the
worse, in the shop of Turnbull and Marston, seasoned only with
the heavenly salt of Mary's good ministration.
She was very lonely. Letty was gone; and the link between Mr.
Wardour and her not only broken, but a gulf of separation in its
place. Not the less remained the good he had given her.
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