Then the High Bailiff opened the bigger of his books, and after writing something in it himself he asked Lord Raa to sign his name, and this being done he asked me also.
"Am I to sign, too?" I asked, vacantly.
"Well, who else do you think?" said Mr. Curphy with a laugh. "Betsy Beauty perhaps, eh?"
"Come, gel, come," said my father, sharply, and then I signed.
I had no longer any will of my own. In this as in everything I did whatever was asked of me.
It was all as dreary and lifeless as an empty house. I can remember that it made no sensible impression upon my heart. My father gave some money (a few shillings I think) to the High Bailiff, who then tore a piece of perforated blue paper out of the bigger of his books and offered it to me, saying:
"This belongs to you."
"To me?" I said.
"Who else?" said Mr. Curphy, who was laughing again, and then something was said by somebody about marriage lines and no one knowing when a wise woman might not want to use them.
The civil ceremony of my marriage was now over, and Lord Raa, who had been very restless, rose to his feet, saying: