ess romantic marriage than this. From time to
time the Doctor glanced round at the door or up at the galleries,
vaguely anticipating the appearance of some protesting stranger, in
possession of some terrible secret, commissioned to forbid the progress
of the service. Nothing in the shape of an event occurred--nothing
extraordinary, nothing dramatic. Bound fast together as man and wife,
the two disappeared, followed by their witnesses, to sign the
registers; and still Doctor Wybrow waited, and still he cherished the
obstinate hope that something worth seeing must certainly happen yet.

The interval passed, and the married couple, returning to the church,
walked together down the nave to the door. Doctor Wybrow drew back as
they approached. To his confusion and surprise, the Countess
discovered him. He heard her say to her husband, 'One moment; I see a
friend.' Lord Montbarry bowed and waited. She stepped up to the
Doctor, took his hand, and wrung it hard. He felt her overpowering
black eyes looking at him through her veil. 'One step more, you see,
on the way to the end!' She whispered those strange words, and returned
to her husband. Before the Doctor could recover himself and follow
her, Lord and Lady Montbarry had stepped into their carriage, and had
driven away.

Outside the church door stood the three or four members of the club
who, like Doctor Wybrow, had watched the ceremony out of curiosity.
Near them was the bride's brother, waiting alone. He was evidently
bent on seeing the man whom his sister had spoken to, in broad
daylight. His bold eyes rested on the Doctor's face, with a momentary
flash of suspicion in them. The cloud suddenly cleared away; the Baron
smiled with charming courtesy, lifted his hat to his sister's friend,
and walked off.

The members constituted themselves into a club conclave on the church
steps. They began with the Baron. 'Damned ill-looking rascal!' They
went on with Montbarry. 'Is he going to take that horrid woman with
him to Ireland?' 'Not he! he can't face the tenantry; they know about
Agnes Lockwood.' 'Well, but where is he going?' 'To Scotland.' 'Does
she like that?' 'It's only for a fortnight; they come back to London,
and go abroad.' 'And they will never return to England, eh?' 'Who can
tell? Did you see how she looked at Montbarry, when she had to lift
her veil at the beginning of the service? In his place, I should have
bolted. Did you see her, Doctor?' By this time, Doctor Wy