r the
clergyman the words, "With my body I thee worship, and with all my
worldly goods I thee endow," knowing that "with his body" he had never
worshipped anything, and that the "endowment" of his worldly goods was
strictly limited to certain settlements. He felt himself to be superior
to his old bachelor friend Sam Gwent, who supported him as "best man"
at the ceremony, and who, as he stood, stiffly upright in immaculate
"afternoon visiting attire" among the restlessly swaying,
semi-whispering throng, was all the time thinking of the dusky
night-gloom in the garden of the "Plaza" far away in California and a
beautiful face set against the dark background of myrtle bushes
exhaling rich perfume.

"What a startling contrast she would be to these dolls of fashion!" he
thought--"What a sensation she would make! There's not a woman here who
can compare with her! If I were only a bit younger I'd try my
luck!--anyway I'm younger than to-day's bridegroom!--but
she--Manella--would never look at any other man than Seaton, who
doesn't care a rap for her or any other woman!" Here his thoughts took
another turn.

"No," he repeated inwardly--"He doesn't care a rap for her or any other
woman--except--perhaps--Morgana! And even if it were Morgana, it would
be for himself and himself alone! While she--ah!--it would be a clever
brain indeed that could worry out what SHE cares for! Nothing in this
world, so far as I can see!"

Here the organ poured the rich strains of a soft and solemn prelude
through the crowded church--the "sacred" part of the ceremony was over,
and bride and bridegroom made their way to the vestry, there to sign
the register in the presence of a selected group of friends. Sam Gwent
was one of these,--and though he had attended many such functions
before, he was more curiously impressed than usual by the unctuous and
barefaced hypocrisy of the whole thing--the smiling humbug of the
officiating clergy,--the affected delight of the "society" toadies
fluttering like wasps round bride and bride-groom as though they were
sweet dishes specially for stinging insects to feed upon, and in his
mind he seemed to hear the warm, passionate voice of Manella in frank
admission of her love for Seaton.

"It is good to love him!" she had said--"I am happy to love him. I wish
only to serve him!"

This was primitive passion,--the passion of primitive woman for her
mate whom she admitted to be stronger than herself, to whom she
inst