her in his arms for the first time, he kissed her. He noticed the shabby
gloves, and, putting his hand in his breast pocket, drew out the white
gloves she had worn before, saying, "See! I have carried them there ever
since you sent them back! My sister never asked for them. I kept them for
your sake."

The color had come back into her cheeks when they reached the church, and
he thought her a beautiful bride as he led her into the dim aisle. Some
one up in the choir loft was playing the wedding march, and the minister's
wife and young daughter sat waiting to witness the ceremony.

The minister met them at the door with a welcoming smile and hand-shake,
and led them forward. As the music hushed for the words of the ceremony,
he leaned forward to the young man and whispered:

"I neglected to ask you her name, Tryon."

"Oh, yes." The young man paused in his dilemma and looked for an instant
at the sweet face of the girl beside him. But he could not let his friend
see that he did not know the name of his wife-to-be, and with quick
thought he answered, "Mary!"

The ceremony proceeded, and the minister's voice sounded out solemnly in
the empty church: "Do you, Tryon, take this woman whom you hold by the
hand to be your lawful wedded wife?"

The young man's fingers held the timid hand of the woman firmly as he
answered, "I do."

"Do you, Mary, take this man?" came the next question, and the girl looked