“Mutchison, come here,” said Albert Goldsborough.
And the giant came to his side.
“Mutchison, there was once a princess of France who was as obstinately opposed to matrimony as our bride here. Even when this princess stood with her intended husband before the altar she refused to say ‘Yes’ to the all important question as to whether she would take that man to be her wedded husband. So her father went behind her, put his hands upon her obstinate little head and bent it forward with a nod of assent.”
“And ‘a nod is as good as a wink,’” said Mutchison.
“Certainly—and better, in these instances; for it is a sign of affirmation and means yes.”
“The parson is at the door, sir,” exclaimed Mutchison, seeing a shadow move before the curtain.
“Well, let him wait a moment, until I explain your part to you.”
All the time they were speaking Elfie was struggling violently to free herself. And now again Albert Goldsborough threw his left arm around her and caught and confined her two hands with his left hand, while with his right hand he covered her mouth to stifle her screams, that were again splitting the air.
“Don’t smother her, sir,” said Mutchison.
“I will not. She has fine nostrils, especially when they are inflated with rage, and I leave them free for breathing purposes. Now then, Mutchison; I want you to place yourself immediately behind this obstinate little bride, and when the parson asks her if she will take this man to be her wedded husband, for better for worse, (and she will find him much better than she hopes,) I want you to put your hand upon her obstinate little head and bend it forward with a very emphatic nod of assent, as the King of France did in the case of his disobedient daughter. Get yourself into position. And then I will call on the parson.”