ver to hold his peace?" No. The clergyman proceeds steadily,
and nothing happens. Natalie's charming face grows paler and paler,
Natalie's heart throbs faster and faster, as the time comes nearer for
reading the words which unite them for life. Lady Winwood herself feels
an unaccustomed fluttering in the region of the bosom. Her ladyship's
thoughts revert, not altogether pleasantly, to her own marriage: "Ah
me! what was I thinking of when I was in this position? Of the bride's
beautiful dress, and of Lady Winwood's coming presentation at court!"

The service advances to the words in which they plight their troth.
Launce has put the ring on her finger. Launce has repeated the words
after the clergyman. Launce has married her! Done! Come what may of it,
done!

The service ends. Bridegroom, bride, and witnesses go into the vestry
to sign the book. The signing, like the service, is serious. No trifling
with the truth is possible here. When it comes to Lady Winwood's turn,
Lady Winwood must write her name. She does it, but without her usual
grace and decision. She drops her handkerchief. The clerk picks it up
for her, and notices that a coronet is embroidered in one corner.

The fees are paid. They leave the vestry. Other couples, when it is
over, are talkative and happy. These two are more silent and more
embarrassed than ever. Stranger still, while other couples go off with
relatives and friends, all socially united in honor of the occasion,
these two and their friends part at the church door. The respectable man
and his wife go their way on foot. The little lady with the coronet on
her handkerchief puts the bride into a cab, gets in herself, and directs
the driver to close the door, while the bridegroom is standing on the
church steps! The bridegroom's face is clouded, as well it may be. He
puts his head in at the window of the cab; he possesses himself of the
bride's hand; he speaks in a whisper; he is apparently not to be shaken
off. The little lady exerts her authority, separates the clasped hands,
pushes the bridegroom away, and cries peremptorily to the driver to go
on. The cab starts; the deserted husband drifts desolately anyhow down
the street. The clerk, who has seen it all, goes back to the vestry and
reports what has happened.

The rector (with his wife on his arm) has just dropped into the vestry
on business in passing. He and the curate are talking about the strange
marriage. The rector, gravely bent on as