Mrs. Stirling thought it rather ridiculous, as they came in sight, that that silly old maid, Miss Tuttle, had chosen to wear a hat and veil like the bride at the ceremony, but she did not give the poor, drab-faced creature a second look, she was so intent on watching the proceedings.
Wizard Hermann met the pair at the door, and taking the golden-haired girl by the arm, led her to the rotund bridegroom waiting nervously for his happiness.
The minister cleared his throat ready to proceed, but the bride stood still for a moment, facing Giles Bennett, and her low voice said, distinctly:
“The mortgage on Wheatlands—the prize for which I am sold, sir—have you brought it as agreed upon?”
He produced a folded paper, and she beckoned to her guardian.
“Examine this paper. Is it bona fide?”
He answered, huskily:
“Yes.”
She looked at Giles Bennett.
“You are willing that I destroy this paper, on condition that I marry you immediately afterward?”