The verger's hand pushed at him from behind. Someone was driving Miriam towards the altar rail and the clergyman. "We're in for it," said Mr. Polly to her sympathetically. "Where? Here? Right O." He was interested for a moment or so in something indescribably habitual in the clergyman's pose. What a lot of weddings he must have seen! Sick he must be of them! "Don't let your attention wander," said the eye. "Got the ring?" whispered Johnson. "Pawned it yesterday," answered Mr. Polly and then had a dreadful moment under that pitiless scrutiny while he felt in the wrong waistcoat pocket.... The officiating clergy sighed deeply, began, and married them wearily and without any hitch. "_D'b'loved, we gath'd 'gether sight o' Gard 'n face this con'gation join 'gather Man, Worn' Holy Mat'my which is on'bl state stooted by Gard in times man's innocency_...." Mr. Polly's thoughts wandered wide and far, and once again something like a cold hand touched his heart, and he saw a sweet face in sunshine under the shadow of trees. Someone was nudging him. It was Johnson's finger diverted his eyes to the crucial place in the prayer-book to which they had come. "Wiltou lover, cumfer, oner, keeper sickness and health..." "Say 'I will.'" Mr. Polly moistened his lips. "I will," he said hoarsely. Miriam, nearly inaudible, answered some similar demand. Then the clergyman said: "Who gifs Worn married to this man?" "Well, _I'm_ doing that," said Mr. Voules in a refreshingly full voice and looking round the church. "You see, me and Martha Larkins being cousins--" He was silenced by the clergyman's rapid grip directing the exchange of hands. "Pete arf me," said the clergyman to Mr. Polly. "Take thee Mirum wed wife--" "Take thee Mirum wed' wife," said Mr. Polly. "Have hold this day ford." "Have hold this day ford." "Betworse, richpoo'--" "Bet worsh, richpoo'...." Then came Miriam's turn. "Lego hands," said the clergyman; "got the ring? No! On the book. So! Here! Pete arf me, 'withis ring Ivy wed.'" "Withis ring Ivy wed--" So it went on, blurred and hurried, like the momentary vision of an utterly beautiful thing seen through the smoke of a passing train.... "Now, my boy," said Mr. Voules at last, gripping Mr. Polly's elbow tightly, "you've got to sign the registry, and there you are! Done!" Before him stood Miriam, a little stiffly, the hat with a slight rake across her forehead, and a kind of questioning hesitation in her face. Mr. Voules urged him past her. It was astounding. She was his wife! And for some reason Miriam and Mrs. Larkins were sobbing, and Annie was looking grave. Hadn't they after all wanted him to marry her? Because if that was the case--! He became aware for the first time of the presence of Uncle Pentstemon in the background, but approaching, wearing a tie of a light mineral blue colour, and grinning and sucking enigmatically and judiciously round his principal tooth. V