crisp morning hailed them and the streets were bright. Already, though
they arrived early at the church, several pews were full of whispering
guests who turned and looked and smiled, with nods that beckoned, at
the two young men.

"What'll we do?" Osborn whispered.

"Hide," said Rokeby.

They hid in a cold, stony little place which Rokeby said was a vestry,
and there they waited while interminable minutes drifted by. Osborn
fell into a dream from which he was only fully roused by finding
himself paraded side by side at the chancel steps with a dazzling
apparition, robed in white clouds, veiled and wreathed. She carried a
great bouquet. He stole a look at her entrancing profile and thought
that never had she looked so lovely. She had a flush on her cheeks,
her gay eyes were serious, and her little bare left hand, when, under
whispered instructions, he took it, startled him by being tremulous
and cold as ice. He pressed it and felt tremendously protective.

An irrevocable Act had taken place without fuss or difficulty, or any
abnormal signs and wonders; the gold circle was on Marie's finger and
they were married. For a moment or two, while they knelt and a strange
clergyman was addressing them, Osborn was surprised at the ease, the
speed and simplicity with which two people gave each other their
lives. He did not know what else he had expected, but how simple it
all was! This was their day of days; their wedding. He stole another
look at Marie and found her rapt, calm.

He began to be annoyed with the presence of the clergyman, of Desmond,