“But how _could_ you!” she cried. “Come, dearest,” he said, hurriedly--“it’s nothing. It seems so strange, that’s all.” In the middle of the block they came to another church. “Unitarian!” he exclaimed. “Oh, maybe that’s just the thing!” And so they went in, and found a friendly clergyman, Dr. Hamilton by name, to whom they explained their plight. They answered his questions--yes, they were both of age, and they had told their parents. Also, with much stammering, Thyrsis explained that his worldly goods amounted to eight dollars. “But--how are you going to live?” asked Dr. Hamilton. Thyrsis was tempted to mention the masterpiece, but he decided not to. “I’m going to earn money,” he said. “Well,” responded the other, “I suppose it’s all right. I’ll marry you.” And so the sexton was called in for a witness, and the clergyman stood before them and made a little speech, and said a prayer, and then joined their hands together and pronounced the spell. The two trembled just a little, but answered bravely, “I do,” in the proper places, and then it was over. They shook hands with the doctor, and promised to come hear one of his sermons; and with much trepidation they paid him two dollars, which he in turn paid to the sexton. And then they went outside, and drew a great breath of relief. “It wasn’t half as bad as I expected,” the bridegroom confessed. Section 5. Thyris invested in a newspaper, and as they went back to get the violin they read the advertisements of furnished rooms. In respectable neighborhoods which they tried they found that the prices were impossible for them; but at last, upon the edge of a tenement district, they found a corner flat-house, with a saloon underneath, where there were two tiny bedrooms for rent in an apartment. The woman, who was a seamstress, was away a good deal in the day, and Corydon learned with delight that she might use the piano in the parlor. The rooms were the smallest they had ever seen, but they were clean, and the price was only fifty cents a day--a dollar and a half a week for Thyrsis’ and two dollars for Corydon’s, because there was a steam-radiator in it. There was a racket of school-children and of streetcars from the avenue below, but they judged they would get used to this; and having duly satisfied the landlady that they were married, and having ascertained that she had no objection to “light housekeeping,” they engaged the rooms and paid a week’s rent in advance. “That leaves us two and a half to start life on!” said Thyrsis, when they were on the street again. “Our housekeeping will be light indeed!” They walked on, and sat down in the park to talk it over. “It’s not nearly so reckless as it would seem,” he argued. “For I have to earn money for myself any-how. And then there’s the book.” “When will you hear about it?” “I called the man up the day before yesterday. He said they were reading it.” “Have you said anything to him about money?” “Not yet.”