"'On the 21st instant, at the University Church, Avonsbridge, by the
Reverend John Smith, the Reverend Arnold Grey, D.D., Master of
Saint Bede's College, Avonsbridge, to Christian, only child of the late
Edward Oakley, Esq., of that place.' Will it do? Because, if so, James
will send it to 'The Times' at once."

"Better ask Dr. Grey first," answered the bride.

As she spoke, Dr. Grey turned round from the window where he had
been conversing--that is, responding to conversation--with Mr.
Ferguson, chiefly on the weather; for it was a snowy December day.

This precise moment, half an hour after his marriage--his second
marriage--is hardly a fair time to describe Dr. Arnold Grey; suffice it to
say that he was a gentleman apparently about forty-five, rather low in
stature, and spare in figure, with hair already thin and iron-gray. The
twenty-five years between him and his newly-married wife showed
plainly--only too plainly--as she stood, in all her gracefulness of
girlhood, which even her extreme pallor and a certain sharp, worn,
unnaturally composed look could not destroy. He seemed struck by
this. His face clouded over for a minute, and he slightly sighed. But
the pain, whatever it was, was only momentary. He looked like a man
who was not in the habit of acting hastily or impulsively--who never
did any thing without having previously fully counted the cost.

"What were you saying, Mrs. Ferguson?" said he, addressing her with
the grave and somewhat formal politeness which was his natural
manner, but which always somewhat awed that rather vulgar, though
kind-hearted and well-meaning woman.