Another knock at the door was followed by Leon’s entrance. Eager, smiling, face flushed and hands nervous, he took from his waistcoat pocket a brooch pin and held it out for Selma to see. “Something new,” he said. “Do you like it?” Against a taupe oval rimmed with gold was a delicately wrought profile in ivory of a young girl’s head that might have been Selma’s own.

“Yes, I do. Thank you, Leon. Thank you,” Selma said, as if caught dreaming. “Where is Mama?”

Leon looked surprised. “With the guests. I am to escort you downstairs when you are ready and give you away. Are you? Ready, I mean? It’s time.”

Selma looked about, confused, the vague smile fading from her face. She turned her body, keeping her feet in place as if they were weighted to the floor. “Am I ready, Lovey?”

Without looking at the girl Lovey said to Leon, “Is everything down there ready?” Leon nodded. Lovey turned to Posie. “Go see.” Posie started out of the room, but Lovey overtook and stopped her. “I better.” She went out, leaving the door open. The buzzing sound from downstairs was stronger now than before. Presently, after a signal from Lovey had been relayed down to the pianist and singer below, music began, at first the piano, tentatively, gathering authority; and then after a pause, a soprano sang of love eternal.

As she sang, Lovey returned to Selma, and when her eyes met the girl’s, she nodded. She took the tiara of fern and snowdrops from the damp cloth where it had waited and fixed them on Selma’s crown of curls.

Before Lovey’s hands could drop to her sides, Selma grasped and kissed them in such a fierce way as surprised all except Lovey. Leon offered his arm to his sister, and Selma put a small hand into the crooked elbow which Leon then pressed hard against his side. Lovey placed the prayer book Nell had brought, now with the stem of a white rose separating its closed halves, into Selma’s free hand. It served to steady and occupy the hand.

Gradually becoming more aware of the music as it gained in volume and they left the bedroom, went into the upper hallway and on to the stairs, Selma and Leon adjusted their walking to its rhythm. When they were seen from below to start their descent, the song ended, and the piano began the Wedding March. Down the stairs they proceeded, and when they came to the bottom, walked out to the wide hallway. Selma had known it all her life, had walked or run through it a dozen times a day. Now it was like entering an arena of wild beasts.