eight o'clock
Why , here is Elsa ready to dress my hair ! Mamma -- dear -- I 'm all right now . Fine . '' * * * * * At eight o'clock that evening , in the Garrison Avenue Rock Church , little Evelyn Kemble , in the bushiest of white skirts and to the accompaniment of organ music rolling over her , placed a white-satin cushion before the smilax-banked altar . Kneeling on it , and to the antiphonal beat of the Reverend Stickney 's voice , Lilly Becker and Albert Penny became as one . By a strange conspiracy of middle-class morality , which clothes the white nude of life in suggestive factory-made garments , and by her own sheer sappiness , which vitalized her , but with the sexlessness of a young tree , Lilly , with all her rather puerile innocence left her , walked into her marriage like a blind Nydia , hands out and groping sensitively . The same , in a measure , was true of Albert , who came into his immaculate inheritance , himself immaculate , but with a nervous system well insulated by a great cautiousness of life .