This one had scruples too. This seemed an absurd prejudice to stand in the way of so much happiness. The fourth or fifth minister was “perfectly willing” but hadn’t the least idea of an Episcopal service. Verily this was the pursuit of happiness under difficulties. But I rejoiced then that all obstacles seemed to be at last overcome. Grateful to this liberal Methodist minister I thanked him and said: “If you are willing, please wait a moment.”
Running quickly to Mr. Houghton, he soon found a prayer book and a key,—not of the book but of the chapel door. How the time flew! Four hours and thirty minutes gone; only twenty-five minutes left! The minister and I entered the chapel, where I explained to him the form of the Episcopal service, and to save time enacted the part of the groom, the bride and the other necessary characters. Much delighted with this service, he was proceeding finely when we came to the giving of the ring. “Oh, how about the ring,” he asked. Here was another dilemma. Shades of the Goddess of Matrimony! A ring! and in camp, where jewelry was conspicuous only by its absence! My only ring, a garnet cluster, would not serve for a wedding ring, yet a ring must be had. Leaving the reverend absorbed in his part I ran to the tent again and rushed in upon Bob and Annie, happy and quite oblivious of time, forgetting almost my presence, and that it was for their marriage, that I had stirred up every department in the great hospital and the U. S. Headquarters.
In a tone of dismay I exclaimed: “What shall we do for a ring? It is impossible to find one in this last moment.”
But to my intense amazement and great relief Miss Bain in a most matter of fact manner replied, “Why, I have a plain ring in my valise.” This she placed in my hand, and I gave it to Bob, who deposited it safely for the auspicious moment. So I sped happily away, calling back, “Be ready in five minutes!”
And now we must marshal our forces and prepare for the silent wedding march, for which no Mendelssohn or Lohengrin could give sweet music, and which must be under cover to avoid attracting attention. At this moment an orderly hastily entered saying, “Mr. A. is very sorry, but a telegram has ordered him directly to the Point, and Mr. Peek is nowhere to be found!”
“Perhaps he has taken a telegraphic shock, too!”
“All the rest here?”
“Yes; but now, Captain Beckwith, you must be promoted to second groomsman.”
Ignoring his objections in this latest emergency, I turned to Mrs. Painter, asking: “Will you give away the bride, thus standing for her mother?”
Equal to any emergency she replied: “We Friends do not understand thy services, but what will thee have me to do?”