Help me to pick up the ring,
and let the ceremony go on."
"It is well for you that it is _not_ completed," replied Sir Giles,
almost black in the face with choler. "You know not whom you are about
to wed. But we will soon see. Off with your veil, minion! Off with it, I
say!"
"Sir Giles, I will not permit this liberty," cried the old usurer. "You
shall not touch her. Whom should it be but my own dear, delectable
Aveline?"
"Look round, I say, and credit your own eyes, since you doubt my
assertions!" roared Sir Giles.
"Ten thousand furies!" ejaculated Sir Francis, as he complied with the
injunction. "Why, there she is, in good truth, when I thought she was by
my side. Whom, then, have I been about to take to my bosom?"
"It matters not," replied Sir Giles. "She you desired to wed is yonder,
and must take the other's place. That is--but I forget," he added,
suddenly checking himself, and lowering his tone, "naught can be done,
except according to rule, in this presence. Your vanity must needs be
gratified by bringing together all this courtly company to witness your
marriage. And now they will only mock you."
"S'death! you are right, Sir Giles," rejoined the old usurer. "I am
become a mere laughing-stock to my guests. But at least I will see my
false bride's features. You hear what I say, Madam," he added to
Gillian--"let me behold your face without more ado.
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