The six months passed and the strange wedding was near at hand. The underlying hope that they might be discovered and restored to the life that seemed so remotely far behind them was overshadowed, obliterated by the conditions and preparations attending their nuptials. Sincerity of purpose and the force of their passion justified beyond all question the manner in which they were to become man and wife in this heathen land of Nedra. Wedding garments had been woven in the most artistic and approved fashion. Lady Tennys's trousseau was most elaborate, far more extensive than even the most lavish desires of civilization could have produced. Their subjects vied with each other in the work of decorating their idols for the ceremony. Never before had native ingenuity and native endurance been put to such a test. Worship was the master workman and energy its slave. "If they keep on bringing in clothes, dear, we'll have a bargain-day stock to dispose of some time. We'd have to live two hundred years in order to try 'em on and thereby set the fashion in exclusive wedding garments." Hugh made this comment as they stood surveying the latest consignment of robes, which reposed with considerable reverence on the specially constructed tables in the new part of Tennys Court. Amused perplexity revealed itself in the faces of the couple. "I think this last pair of trousers, if you should ever wear them, will revolutionize the habits of the island. You will look especially killing in green, Hugh." "That seashell parasol of yours is unique, but I imagine it will be too heavy for you to carry in Piccadilly. I observed that it required two able-bodied men to bring it here, and they seemed immensely relieved when it was off their shoulders--to say nothing of their hands. How do you like this crocodile skin necktie of mine?" "It is particularly becoming to you--as a belt." "I'm glad we're to be married soon, Tennys," said he with a grin. "If we put it off a month longer there won't be enough material on land or sea to supply the demand for ready-made garments. As it is, I'm afraid the poor devils will have to go naked themselves until a new crop springs up. I saw one of Pootoo's wives patching his best suit of breech clothes to-day, so he must be hard put for wearing apparel." "I wonder if it would offend them if we were to distribute what we can't use among the poor." "I am sure it would please the poor as much as it would please us. They'll all be poor, you know. I have two hundred and eighty-three pairs of trousers and only seven shirts. If I could trade in two hundred and fifty pants for an extra shirt or two, I'd be a much happier bridegroom." "I dare say they can cut down some of my kimonas to fit you. I have at least three hundred."