“Yes,” said Clive, “and the car will be here for you two people in ten minutes or so. Will you have your coffee now, Felix?—Rose-Ann?” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ XVIII. The Authority of the State of Illinois 1 THE car took them through the deepening snow on up to the county seat, where the license was soon made out for them. “You’re lucky to find me here on hand tonight,” said the county clark. They expressed their appreciation. “But I like to accommodate young folks,” he said smiling, and shook hands with them when they left. It was snowing more heavily all the time, and the roads were difficult, but Judge Peabody had kept his promise, and was waiting for them when they arrived. He greeted them with grave benevolence. “Mr. Bangs tells me you want a very simple ceremony,” he said, and put on his spectacles and took out a little book, turning the pages back and forth until he found the right place. “Do you, Felix Fay, take this woman, Rose-Ann Prentiss, to be your wedded wife, to cherish and protect, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?” A promise: a strange defiance flung out by the human spirit against the infinite vicissitudes of chance; a barrier of will against all the hostile forces of the days and years; a renunciation of whatever may lie outside the magic circle of our little mutual happiness, forever; a few weak words, easily forgotten, that must be stronger than passion, stronger than forgetfulness.... “I do,” he said. “Do you, Rose-Ann Prentiss....” “I do.” “Then, by the authority of the State of Illinois, in me vested, I pronounce you husband and wife.” He took off his spectacles and put them in his pocket. 2 Rose-Ann and Felix looked at each other in a kind of surprise. So they were married! The judge was wishing them happiness. “And now,” he said, “I’ll hurry home before the snow gets any deeper.” Felix, a little embarrassed, and wishing he could do it less obtrusively, gave him a crumpled bill, which the judge, without embarrassment, smoothed out and placed in a wallet. “Good-night!” he said, and let Phyllis help him on with his overcoat. “Good-night!” At the door he turned. “Oh, by the way,” he said. “Do you want a marriage certificate?” The question was addressed to Rose-Ann. She shook her head in a determined negative. “No?” he repeated absently. “Lots of people don’t, nowadays.... Good-night!” “I suppose you know the house is yours for as long as you want it now,” said Clive to Rose-Ann. “Yes,” she said, “Felix just remembered to tell me a little while ago. It’s terribly nice of you, Clive. I can’t think of a lovelier place to be!”