He raised her gently, and placed her in a seat by Dorian.
"You were not to have much excitement, you know, Dorian, so let us have the agony over as soon as possible," he remarked genially.
And though Nita's heart leaped in sweet alarm, he gave her no respite, but went and brought the preacher, the surgeon, the captain, and Lizette.
Propped up by the surgeon's arm, Dorian held Nita's cold little hand in his, and a few solemn words made her his bride.
"'To have and to hold from this day forward,'" went on Irwin's solemn voice.
And directly the ring was slipped over Nita's third finger, and she was bending her stately head for her husband's kiss. Then they all congratulated the pair very quietly and retired, the surgeon lingering to give Dorian a sedative, after which he said gravely:
"Now, Mrs. Mountcastle, you may sit by your husband until he falls asleep, but no talking, remember, for he must have a long night's rest."
They were alone together. He looked up at her in grateful, adoring love.
"We are on our wedding-trip, darling," he murmured.
"Yes, Dorian. Now sleep," she whispered, as she placed her hand caressingly on his white brow. He closed his eyes, and the beautiful bride sat and watched him, her heart thrilling with passionate love and joy.