'For months then I heard no more of Grace Pascoe's lover: nor (though
he now came every Sunday to church) did I ever see looks pass between
the Vicarage pew (where she sat) and the Vellancoose pew (where he).
But at the end of the year she came to me and told me she had given
her word to a young farmer of Goldsithney, John Magor by name. In a
worldly way this was a far better match for her than to take a
nameless and landless man. Nor knew I anything against John Magor
beyond some stray wildness natural to youth. He came of clean blood.
He was handsome, almost as the other; tall, broad of chest, a
prizewinner at wrestling-matches; and of an age when a good wife is
usually a man's salvation.
'I called their banns, and in due time married them. On the
wedding-day, after the ceremony, I returned from church to find the
young man Luke awaiting me by my house-door; who very civilly desired
me to walk over to Vellancoose with him, which I did. There, taking
me aside to an unused linhay, he showed me the sculpture, telling me
(who could not conceal my admiration) that he had meant it for John
and Grace Magor (as she now was) for a wedding-gift, but that the
young woman had cried out against it as immodest and, besides,
unlucky.
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