“Go, you young fools! and my worst curses go with you!” He then went within, slamming the door violently after him. As he did so, two men arose from behind some bushes and shrubs which grew beside the arbor where the strange marriage had taken place, and stealthily made their way out of the grounds, whispering as they went. CHAPTER II. “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!” All unmindful of the withering curses invoked upon their devoted heads, the young and newly-wedded pair went on their homeward way, as happy and light-hearted as they had come, little dreaming of the reception that awaited the announcement of their mad freak—little dreaming of the sudden and cruel separation in store for them—that the bright day so happily begun, and well-nigh spent, was to close, as it were, in a night of black despair, and long, long years of weary sorrow and heart-pangs intervene ere joy and reunion would come again to them. Old Prince held his head higher than ever, and stepped briskly along on the homeward route, as if half conscious of the new and strangely important relations which the occupants of the buggy bore to each other. “Well, Robbie, I don’t feel any different from what I did before, do you?” asked Dora, with a comical look on her rosy face. “Why, no, Brightie; I didn’t expect to, did you?” “I d’no,” replied the child, looking somewhat confused. “Well—yes—I thought folks who got married felt bigger and grander some way.” Robert laughed. “Did you?” he asked. “I guess it must be because they always have on new clothes, and are fixed up so much.” “Perhaps so,” replied Dora, still looking puzzled. “And now I’m married, I suppose I shall have to wear my dresses long, like other ladies, and do my hair up in a waterfall behind, and wear bonnets instead of hats, and, oh, dear! now I shall always have to wear gloves and stiff collars.” She heaved a little sigh here, half regretful, but presently went on: “And, Robbie, you must have a tall hat and a long-tailed coat, and I wish you had whiskers and a mustache; then I guess it would seem more real, but I don’t feel a bit as if I was married now.” Robert looked rather sober and sheepish, as he answered: “I don’t know, Dora; I’m afraid we shouldn’t know each other rigged up in that style. I don’t think I should like you half so well, with your hair bobbed up behind, and then the long dresses would cover up your pretty little feet; and I’m sure I shouldn’t know how to act in a stove-pipe hat, and a long-tailed coat. I like you best as you are, Brightie, so I guess we hadn’t better change.” “But,” persisted the little lady, still fearful they would not be able to support the dignity of man and wife, “don’t you think you could raise some whiskers? I think you would look real nice if you had some like Professor Allen.” “I could get some false ones, if you want——”