Thomas Blythe was himself examined in the Probate Court at Westminster, and stated that in the May of 1853 he was living at Springfield, Gretna Green, and was in the agricultural line, though he did a small stroke of business in the ‘joining line’ as well. Replying to counsel as to how he performed the ceremony, he gave the following account of the marriage service as by him conducted: ‘I first asked if they were single. They said they were. I then asked the man: “Do you take this woman for your wife?” He said, “Yes.” I then asked the woman: “Do you take this man for your lawful husband?” She said, “Yes.” I then said: “Put on the ring.” The ring was put on. I then said: “The thing is done; the marriage is complete.”’ A certificate of marriage was written out and given to the woman. We doubt not, however, that many of our readers may learn with surprise that, even now, marriage—provided that one or other of the parties have resided three weeks in Scotland—may be thus speedily and effectually performed at the erstwhile notorious little village of Gretna Green, as well as elsewhere north of the Border. IN ALL SHADES. CHAPTER XV. A fortnight after Nora’s arrival in Trinidad, Mr Tom Dupuy, neatly dressed in all his best, called over one evening at Orange Grove for the express purpose of speaking seriously with his pretty cousin. Mr Tom had been across to see her more than once already, to be sure, and had condescended to observe to many of his men acquaintances, on his return from his call, that Uncle Theodore’s girl, just come out from England, was really in her own way a most elegant and attractive creature. In Mr Tom’s opinion, she would sit splendidly at the head of the table at Pimento Valley. ‘A man in my position in life wants a handsome woman, you know,’ he said, ‘to do the honours, and keep up the dignity of the family, and look after the women-servants, and all that sort of thing; so Uncle Theodore and I have arranged beforehand that it would be a very convenient plan if Nora and I were just to go and make a match of it.’ With the object of definitely broaching this preconcerted harmony to his unconscious cousin, Mr Tom had decked himself in his very smartest coat and trousers, stuck a _gloire de Dijon_ rose in his top button-hole, mounted his celebrated gray Mexican pony ‘Sambo Gal,’ and ridden across to Orange Grove in the cool of the evening. Nora was sitting by herself with her cup of tea in the little boudoir that opened out on to the terrace garden, with its big bamboos and yuccas and dracœna trees, when Mr Tom Dupuy was announced by Rosina as waiting to see her. ‘Show him in, Rosina,’ Nora said with a smile; ‘and ask Aunt Clemmy to send me up another teacup.—Good-evening, Tom. I’m afraid you’ll find it a little dull here, as it happens, this evening, for papa’s gone down to Port-of-Spain on business; and so you’ll have nobody to talk with you to-night about the prospects of the year’s sugar-crop.’