“It was the only point that the bishop could lay hold of, Mr. Wynne,” said Playdell. “I held, and I still hold, that the ceremony of marriage may be performed by any person who has been ordained—that the question of a licence is not one that should come forward upon any occasion. Those who hold other opinions are those who would degrade the ordinance into a mere civil act.”
“And you married without question every couple who came to you, I believe?” said Harold.
“I did, Mr. Wynne. And I will be happy to marry any other couples who come to me for that purpose now.”
“But, you are no longer in the Church, and such marriages would be no marriages in the eyes of the law.”
“Nothing can be more certain, Mr. Wynne. But I know that there are many persons in this country who hold, with me, that the ordinance is not one that should be made the subject of a licence bought from a bishop—who hold that the very act of purchase is a gross degradation of the ordinance of God.”
“I say, chippie Chaplain, haven’t we had enough of that?” said Archie. “You’ve pegged away at that marriage business with me for a good many months. Now, I say, pass the marriage business. Let us have a fresh deal.”
“Mr. Wynne, I merely wished to explain my position to you,” said Playdell. “I’m on the side of the angels in this question, as a great statesman but a poor scientist said of another question.”
“Pass the statesman as well,” cried Archie.
“What do tarty chips like us care for politics or other fads? He told me the other day, Harry, that instead of introducing a bill for the admission of ladies as members of Parliament, it would soon be necessary to introduce a bill for the admission of gentlemen as members—yes, you said that. You can’t deny it.”
“I don’t,” said Mr. Playdell. “The result of the last General Election—”