He apologized for the absence of his wife, saying she had been called
away suddenly, owing to the illness of her mother. His housekeeper and
gardener would act as witnesses. Sanderson hastily took Anna to one
side and said: "I forgot to tell you, darling, that I am going to be
married by my two first names only, George Lennox. It is just the
same, but if the Sanderson got into any of those country marriage
license papers, I should be afraid the governor would hear of
it--penalty of having a great name, you know," he concluded gayly.
"Thought I had better mention it, as it would not do to have you
surprised over your husband's name."
Again the feeling of dread completely over-powered her. She looked at
him with her great sorrowful eyes, as a trapped animal will sometimes
look at its captor, but she could not speak. Some terrible blight
seemed to have overgrown her brain, depriving her of speech and
willpower.
The witnesses entered. Anna was too agitated to notice that the Rev.
John Langdon's housekeeper was a very singular looking young woman for
her position. Her hair was conspicuously dark at the roots and
conspicuously light on the ends. Her face was hard and when she smiled
her mouth, assumed a wolfish expression. She was loudly dressed and
wore a profusion of jewelry--altogether a most remarkable looking woman
for the place she occupied.
The gardener had the appearance of having been suddenly wakened before
nature had had her full quota of sleep. He was blear-eyed and his
breath was more redolent of liquor than one might have expected in the
gardener of a parsonage.
The room in which the ceremony was to take place was the ordinary
cottage parlor, with crochet work on the chairs, and a profusion of
vases and bric-a-brac on the tables. The Rev. John Langdon requested
Anna and Sanderson to stand by a little marble table from which the
housekeeper brushed a profusion of knick-knacks. There was no Bible.
Anna was the first to notice the omission. This seemed to deprive the
young clergyman of his dignity. He looked confused, blushed, and
turning to the housekeeper told her to fetch the Bible. This seemed to
appeal to the housekeeper's sense of humor. She burst out laughing and
said something about looking for a needle in a haystack. Sanderson
turned on her furiously, and she left the room, looking sour, and
muttering indignantly. She returned, after what seemed an interminable
space of time, and the ceremony proceeded.
Anna did not recognize her own voice as she answered the responses.
Sanderson's was clear and ringing; his tones never faltered. When the
time came to put the ring on her finger, Anna's hand trembled so
violently that the ring fell to the floor and rolled away. Sanderson's
face turned pale. It seemed to him like a providential dispensation.
For some minutes, the assembled company joined in the hunt for the
ring. It was found at length by the yellow-haired housekeeper, who
returned it with her most wolfish grin.