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The Rainbow

Page 105

"Anna Theresa Lensky"--what a vain, independent minx she

was! The bridegroom, slender in his black swallow-tail and grey

trousers, solemn as a young solemn cat, was writing

seriously: "William Brangwen."

That looked more like it.

"Come and sign, father," cried the imperious young hussy.

"Thomas Brangwen--clumsy-fist," he said to himself as he

signed.

Then his brother, a big, sallow fellow with black

side-whiskers wrote: "Alfred Brangwen."

"How many more Brangwens?" said Tom Brangwen, ashamed of the

too-frequent recurrence of his family name.

When they were out again in the sunshine, and he saw the

frost hoary and blue among the long grass under the tomb-stones,

the holly-berries overhead twinkling scarlet as the bells rang,

the yew trees hanging their black, motionless, ragged boughs,

everything seemed like a vision.

The marriage party went across the graveyard to the wall,

mounted it by the little steps, and descended. Oh, a vain white

peacock of a bride perching herself on the top of the wall and

giving her hand to the bridegroom on the other side, to be

helped down! The vanity of her white, slim, daintily-stepping

feet, and her arched neck. And the regal impudence with which

she seemed to dismiss them all, the others, parents and wedding

guests, as she went with her young husband.

In the cottage big fires were burning, there were dozens of

glasses on the table, and holly and mistletoe hanging up. The

wedding party crowded in, and Tom Brangwen, becoming roisterous,

poured out drinks. Everybody must drink. The bells were ringing

away against the windows.

"Lift your glasses up," shouted Tom Brangwen from the

parlour, "lift your glasses up, an' drink to the hearth an'

home--hearth an' home, an' may they enjoy it."

"Night an' day, an' may they enjoy it," shouted Frank

Brangwen, in addition.

"Hammer an' tongs, and may they enjoy it," shouted Alfred

Brangwen, the saturnine.

"Fill your glasses up, an' let's have it all over again,"

shouted Tom Brangwen.

"Hearth an' home, an' may ye enjoy it."

There was a ragged shout of the company in response.

"Bed an' blessin', an' may ye enjoy it," shouted Frank

Brangwen.

There was a swelling chorus in answer.

"Comin' and goin', an' may ye enjoy it," shouted the

saturnine Alfred Brangwen, and the men roared by now boldly, and

the women said, "Just hark, now!"

There was a touch of scandal in the air.

Then the party rolled off in the carriages, full speed back

to the Marsh, to a large meal of the high-tea order, which

lasted for an hour and a half. The bride and bridegroom sat at

the head of the table, very prim and shining both of them,

wordless, whilst the company raged down the table.

The Brangwen men had brandy in their tea, and were becoming

unmanageable. The saturnine Alfred had glittering, unseeing

eyes, and a strange, fierce way of laughing that showed his

teeth. His wife glowered at him and jerked her head at him like

a snake. He was oblivious. Frank Brangwen, the butcher, flushed

and florid and handsome, roared echoes to his two brothers. Tom

Brangwen, in his solid fashion, was letting himself go at

last.

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