Then at length David Lindsay returned. She drew him to a distant window, out of the hearing of all others, that he might give an account of himself. “I was longer than you thought I should be, because I had to wait some time in the register’s office before I could get our license. Afterwards I had to inquire out the residences of clergymen, and I called at several before I could find any one disengaged. At length I found one at leisure—the Rev. Mr. O’Halloran, at St. Matthew’s church. He will meet us there immediately,” whispered David Lindsay. Gloria began to tremble visibly. “Are you ready?” inquired the young man. “Yes,” she answered, in a tone scarcely above her breath. He gave her his arm and led her forth, down the stairs and out of the house, to the carriage that stood waiting for them before the door. In another moment they were bowling rapidly up the avenue and turning into a cross street. A ten minutes’ drive brought them to old St. Matthew’s. He helped her from the carriage and led her into the church, at whose lighted altar stood the priest in his vestments, attended by one or two sacristans. In the front pew nearest the altar were three women at their devotions. As these were not the hours of public worship, there were no other persons in the church. Gloria wondered to see these present, but was too much troubled with other thoughts to speak of the circumstance. David Lindsay, however, voluntarily enlightened her. “I told the priest, in answer to his questions, that we had no witnesses to bring with us. He then said that he would have to provide them. I suppose he has done so, and these are they,” he whispered, as he led his trembling companion up the aisle to the chancel. Two hassocks had been placed on the floor before the altar railings. Upon these they knelt. The priest opened his book and began the ceremony forthwith. The women in the front pew left their seats and drew near enough to hear the low responses of the bridegroom and the bride. The ceremony must have been relieved from all unnecessary forms, for it was very short, and very soon over. “I pronounce you man and wife. Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.” The concluding words of the sacred marriage rites, uttered in the sweet and solemn tones of the officiating priest, fell upon the ears of the unhappy girl like the knell of doom. The benediction was then pronounced, and the young pair arose from their knees. CHAPTER XVIII BRIDE AND GROOM Wedded fast were we. E. B. BROWNING. “Salute your wife,” said the priest. The young bridegroom turned to his wife—his face all glorious with the noblest love that ever inspired the soul of a world-renowned poet or warrior—and took her hand and drew her to his heart and bowed his head to offer her the customary kiss that was to seal the ceremony just performed between them.