On the day preceding the wedding one trouble for a moment clouded the bridegroom’s brow.  Ruby had demanded that Joe Mixet should not be among the performers, and John Crumb, with the urbanity of a lover, had assented to her demand,—­as far, at least, as silence can give consent.  And yet he felt himself unable to answer such interrogatories as the parson might put to him without the assistance of his friend, although he devoted much study to the matter.  ’You could come in behind like, Joe, just as if I knew nothin’ about it,’ suggested Crumb.

’Don’t you say a word of me, and she won’t say nothing, you may be sure.  You ain’t going to give in to all her cantraps that way, John?’ John shook...