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f the actors。 A village is an organism； conscious of its several parts； as a town is not。
In a village everybody is a public man。 The great events of his life are of public as well as private significance； appropriately； therefore； invested with public ceremonial。 Thus used to living in the public eye； the actors carry off their parts at weddings and other dramatic ceremonials； with more spirit than is easy to a townsman； who is naturally made self…conscious by being suddenly called upon to fill for a day a public position for which he has had no training。 That no doubt is the real reason for the growth of quiet marriages； and the desire for them； I suspect； comes first from the man； for there are few women who at heart do not prefer the old histrionic display。
However； the village wedding at which I suddenly found myself a spectator was； for a village； a singularly quiet one。 There was no bell…ringing； and there were no bridesmaids。 The bride drove up quietly with her father； and there was a subdued note even in the murmur of recognition which ran along the villagers as they stood in groups near the church porch。 There was an absence of the usual hilarity which struck me。 One might almost have said that there was a quite ominous silence。
Seating myself in a corner of the transept where I could see all and be little seen； I with the rest awaited the coming of the overdue bridegroom。 Meanwhile the usual buzzing and bobbing of heads went on amongst the usual little group near the foot of the altar。 Now and then one caught a glisten of tears through a widow's veil； and the little bride； dressed quietly in grey； talked with the usual nervous gaiety to her girl friends； and made the usual whispered confidences about her trousseau。 The father； in occasional conversation with one and another； appeared to be avoiding the subject with the usual self…conscious solemnity； and occasionally he looked； somewhat anxiously； I thought； towards the church door。 The bridegroom did not keep us waiting long；I noticed that he had a rather delicate sad face；and presently the service began。
I don't know myself what getting married must feel like； but it cannot be much more exciting than watching other people getting married。 Probably the spectators are more conscious of the impressive meaning of it all than the brave young people themselves。 I say brave； for I am always struck by the courage of the two who thus gaily leap into the gulf of the unknown together； thus join hands over the inevitable； and put their signatures to the irrevocable。 Indeed； I always get something like a palpitation of the heart just before the priest utters those final fateful words； 〃I declare you man and wife。〃 Half a second before you were still free； half a second after you are bound for the term of your natural life。 Half a second before you had only to dash the book from the priest's hands； and put your hand over his mouth； and though thus giddily swinging on the brink of the precipice； you are saved。 Half a second after
Not all the king's horses and all the king's men Can make you a bachelor ever again。
It is the knife…edge moment 'twixt time and eternity。
And； curiously enough； while my thoughts were thus running on towards the rapids of that swirling moment； the very thing happened which I had often imagined might happen to myself。 Suddenly； with a sob； the bridegroom covered his face with his hands； and crying； 〃I cannot！ I cannot！〃 hurriedly left the church； tears streaming down his cheeks； to the complete dismay of the sad little group at the altar； and the consternation of all present。
〃Poor young man！ I thought he would never go through with it；〃 said an old woman half to herself； who was sitting near me。 I involuntarily looked my desire of explanation。
〃Well； you see；〃 she said； 〃he had been married before。 His first wife died four years ago； and he loved her beyond all heaven and earth。〃
That evening； I afterwards heard； the young bridegroom's body was found by some boys as they went to bathe in the river。 As I recalled once more that sad yearning face； and heard again that terrible 〃I cannot！ I cannot！〃 I thought of Heine's son of Asra； who loved the Sultan's daughter。
〃What is thy name； slave？〃 asked the princess； 〃and what thy race and birthplace？〃
〃My name；〃 the young slave answered； 〃is Mahomet。 I come from Yemen。 My race is that of Asra； and when we love； we die。〃
And likewise a voice kept saying in my heart； 〃If ever you find your Golden Bride； be sure she will die。〃
CHAPTER XIV
THE MYSTERIOUS PETTICOAT
The sad thoughts with which this incident naturally left me were at length and suddenly dispersed； as sad thoughts not infrequently are； by a petticoat。 When I say petticoat； I use the word in its literal sense； not colloquially as a metaphor for its usual wearer； meaning thereby a dainty feminine undergarment seen only by men on rainy days； and one might add washing…days。 It was indeed to the fortunate accident of its being washing…day at the pretty cottage near which in the course of my morning wanderings I had set me down to rest； that I owed the sight of the petticoat in question。
But first allow me to describe a little more fully my surroundings at the moment。 Not indeed that I can hope to put into words the charm of those embowered cottages； like nests in the armpits of great trees； tucked snugly in the hollows of those narrow； winding； almost subterranean lanes which burrow their way beneath the warm…hearted Surrey woodlands。
Nothing can be straighter and smoother than a Surrey roadwhen it is on the king's business； then it is a high…road and behaves accordingly： but a Surrey bye…road is the most whimsical companion in the world。 It is like a sheep…dog； always running backwards and forwards； poking into the most out…of…the…way corners； now climbing at a run some steep hummock of the down； and now leisurely going miles about to escape an ant…hill； and all the time （here； by the way； ends the sheep…dog） it is stopping to gossip with rillets vagabond as itself； or loitering to bedeck itself with flowers。 It seems as innocent of a destination as a boy on an errand； but； after taking at least six times as long as any other road in the kingdom for its amount of work； you usually find it dip down of a sudden into some lovely natural cul…de…sac； a meadow…bottom surrounded by trees； with a stream spreading itself in fantastic silver shallows through its midst； and a cottage half hidden at the end。 Had the lane been going to some great house； it would have made more haste； we may be sure。
The lane I had been following had finally dropped me down at something of a run upon just such a scene。 The cottage； built substantially of grey stone； stood upon the side of the slope； and a broad strip of garden； half cultivated and half wild； began near the house with cabbages； and ended in a jungle of giant bulrushes as it touched the stream。 Golden patches of ragwort blazed here and there among a tangled mass of no doubt worthier herbage；such even in nature is the power of gold；and there were the usual birds。
However； my business is with the week's washing； which in various shades of white； with occasional patches of scarlet； fluttered fantastically across a space of the garden； thereby giving unmistakable witness to human inhabitants； male and female。
As I lounged upon the green bank； I lazily watched these parodies of humanity as they were tossed hither and thither with humourous indignity by the breeze； remarking to myself on the quaint shamelessness with which we thus expose to the public view garments which at other times we are at such bashful pains to conceal。 And thus philosophising； like a much greater philosopher； upon clothes； I found myself involuntarily deducing the cottage family from the family washing。 I soon decided that there must be at least one woman say of the age of fifty； one young woman； one little child； sex doubtful； and one man probably young。 Further than this it was impossible to conjecture。 Thus I made the rough guess that a young man and his wife； a child； and a mother…in…law were among the inhabitants of this idyllic cottage。
But the clothes…line presented charming evidence of still another occupant； and here； though so far easy to read； came in something of a puzzle。 Who in this humble out…of…the…way cottage could afford to wear that exquisite cambric petticoat edged with a fine and very expensive lace？ And surely it was on no country legs that those delicately clocked and open…worked silk stockings walked invisible through the world。
Nor was the lace any ordinary expensive English lace； such as any good shop can supply。 Indeed； I recognised it as being of a Parisian design as yet little known in England； while on the tops of the stockings I laughingly suspected a border designed by a certain eccentric artist； who devotes his strange gifts to decorating with fascinating miniatures the under…world of woman。 I have seen corsets thus made beautiful by him valued at five hundred pounds； and he never paints a pair of garters for less than a hundred。 His name is not yet a famous one； as； for obvious reasons； his works are not exhibite