9It seemed to Caroline that everything became hazy and indistinct. There were faces all round her, faces which seemed to float dizzily in front of her eyes. There were voices exclaiming, questioning, praising, jesting, hands touched hers, lips brushed her fingers, persons pressed in upon her until she felt as if it was all part of a nightmare from which she could not awake.
Then at last she was conscious of one person individually. Someone portly and resplendent in purple, the great jewelled cross on his chest twinkling from the light of the chandelier over his head. It was the Bishop.
“What is this I hear of a betrothal?” he asked, and his voice boomed out resonant and challenging as if he spoke from a pulpit.
“May I present Lady Caroline Faye, my lord, who has honoured me with the pro
