Cheap Gothic Soap Opera, Part 48

Elizabeth grabbed his hand. "Hey! That's my ring, and my finger! What are you doing with them?"
Gornibas snatched the hand away from her. "How dare you? That ring and that finger are Woodson family heirlooms, given to me by my dead grandfather Eduoardo after his trading voyage to Rangoon and the Northern Welsh Indies," said Gornibas with one breath, "Well now, I seem to have suddenly lost my appetite. If you will excuse me." He walked away towards the Old House trying to keep a steady composure, but his coat got caught on the end of the railing on the porch, and he fell down and started yelling and shaking fists at the ocean.

DON'T YOU MIND HIM DEARIE!
Elizabeth jumped up, spun around, and kicked into something slightly cushy. When she regained her balance, she noticed that there was an older woman in a plain dress lying facefirst in the mud. "Oh dear! I'm so sorry," said Elizabeth, as she helped and began to clean the woman up.
"Never you mind, dearie. I've had worse falls before," said the woman with a matronly smile.
"But...I mean...why were you so loud?"
The woman ushered Elizabeth inside the house, into a grand hall. "Oh, I was just quite close up behind you. I only said, don't you mind Gornibas there. He just hasn't been the same since the death of his sister Charlotte. Her doll fell off of Death Cliff, and she jumped right on after it, poor soul. But there are more important things to do. We must get you ready for the wedding!"
"Oh yes, Gornibas told me about his uncle's marria-"
A man, dressed obviously to show that he was a butler, butted in, "A wedding you say, Mother Maggie?"
"Yes dearie, a wedding. And we have to get this young lady ready"
Three ladies, in what could only be maid's uniforms stuck their heads out over the upstairs railings. "For the wedding?" they asked a sing-song voices.
"Yes for the wedding," sang Mother Maggie.
"Shall AY make le food folre zis wedding?" shouted the stereotypically french cook.
"But of course; it is a wedding!"
The whole staff of the house danced into the front hall, whispering, " A wedding, a wedding, get ready for the wedding. A wedding, a wedding, get ready for the wedding."
Elizabeth heard a marching band strike up the tune from some distant corner of the house.
"Um...Okayyyy," she muttered.

(OP: Nate, March 22 2007)