it past them?"

"That's in the Episcopal Church," Peter said, and then he asked, very
politely, "Will you excuse me for a moment?" and walked away as if he
had an idea. It was apparently to join the Vaneckens, who stood in a
group at the end of their corridor, watching the restoration of the
trunks which they had been working over the whole day. He came back
with Mr. Vanecken and Mr. Vanecken's mother. He was smiling radiantly,
and they amusedly.

"It's all right," he explained. "Mr. Vanecken is a Presbyterian
minister, and he will marry us now."

"But not here!" Charlotte cried, feeling herself weaken.

"No, certainly not," the dominie reassured her. "I know a church in
the next block that I can borrow for the occasion. But what about the
license?"

It was in the day before the parties must both make application in
person, and Peter took a paper from his breast pocket. "I thought it
might be needed, sometime, and I got it on the way up, this morning."

"Oh, how thoughtful of you, Peter!" Mrs. Forsyth moaned in admiration
otherwise inexpressible, and the rest laughed, even Charlotte, who
laughed hysterically. At the end of the corridor they met the Misses
Vanecken waiting for them, unobtrusively expectant, and they all went
down in the elevator together. Just as they were leaving the building,
which had the air of hurrying them out, Mrs. Forsyth had an
inspiration. "Good heavens!" she exclaimed, and then, in deference to
Mr. Vanecken, said, "Good gracious, I _mean_. My husband! Peter, go
right into the office and telephone Mr. Forsyth."

"Perhaps," Mr. Vanecken said, "I had better go and see about having my
friend's church opened, in the meanwhile, and--"

"By all means!" Mrs. Forsyth said from her mood of universal
approbation.

But Mr. Vanecken came back looking rather queer and crestfallen. "I
find my friend has gone into the country for a few days; and I don't
quite like to get the sexton to open the church without his authority,
and-- But New York is full of churches, and we can easily find another,
with a little delay, if--"

He looked at Peter, who looked at Charlotte, who burst out with
unprecedented determination. "No, we can't wait. I shall never marry
Peter if we do. Mother, you are right. But _must_ it be in the old
ancestral five-dollar room?"

They all laughed except Charlotte, who was more like crying.

"Certainly not," Mr. Vanecken said. "I've no doubt the manager--"

He never seemed to