‘Ho-ho-ho!’ laughed dark Car.
‘Hee-hee-hee!’ laughed the tippling bride, as she steadied herself on the arm of her fond husband.
‘Heu-heu-heu!’ laughed dark Car’s mother, stroking her moustache as she explained laconically: ‘Out of the frying-pan into the fire!’
And then these children of the open air, whom even excess of alcohol could scarce injure permanently, betook themselves to the field-path; and as they went there moved onward with them, around the shadow of each one’s head, an opalized circle of glory, formed by the moon’s rays upon the glistening sheet of dew. Each pedestrian could see no halo but his or her own, which never deserted the head-shadow, whatever its vulgar unsteadiness might be; but adhered to it, and persistently beautified it; till the erratic motions seemed an inherent part of the irradiation, and the fumes of their breathing a component of the night’s mist; and the spirit of the scene, and of the moonlight, and of Nature, seemed harmoniously to mingle with the spirit of wine.
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