“Yes, I know that, but I must be particular. Have you no other name? Is that the name that you have been and will be in future known by?”
“Not exactly,” replied I; “I have been known by that name, but in future shall not be.”
“Then what am I to say?”
“You must say, Sir Alexander Musgrave, Baronet, of Faristone Hall, Cumberland.”
“Good,” said he, “that is what I required; and the lady your wife, has she any other name but Amy?”
“None, I believe.”
The clergyman then wrote out the marriage certificate, and signed it, taking a copy for registry, and we returned into the drawing-room.
“Here is the certificate of marriage, Madam,” said he; “it ought to be in the care of the lady, and therefore, my lady, I hand it over to you.”
“My lady is much obliged to you for your kindness,” replied Amy, for she thought that the clergyman was only facetious.
She held the certificate in her hand folded as it had been given her for some time. At last curiosity, or, perhaps, having nothing else to do, induced her to open it and read it. I was at this time talking with the clergyman, and presenting him with a handsome douceur for his trouble; but perceiving her to open the certificate, I watched her countenance. She read and started. I turned away as if not observing her. She then went up to her father and desired him to read it.