ina Gressie! I am Georgina Benyon,--and it has become plain,
within a short time, that the natural consequence will take place."

Mrs. Portico was altogether bewildered. "The natural consequence?" she
exclaimed, staring.

"Of one's being married, of course,--I suppose you know what that is. No
one must know anything about it. I want you to take me to Europe."

Mrs. Portico now slowly rose from her place, and approached her visitor,
looking at her from head to foot as she did so, as if to challenge the
truth of her remarkable announcement. She rested her hands on Georgina's
shoulders a moment, gazing into her blooming face, and then she drew her
closer and kissed her. In this way the girl was conducted back to the
sofa, where, in a conversation of extreme intimacy, she opened Mrs.
Portico's eyes wider than they had ever been opened before. She was
Raymond Benyon's wife; they had been married a year, but no one knew
anything about it. She had kept it from every one, and she meant to go
on keeping it. The ceremony had taken place in a little Episcopal church
at Harlem, one Sunday afternoon, after the service. There was no one in
that dusty suburb who knew them; the clergyman, vexed at being detained,
and wanting to go home to tea, had made no trouble; he tied the knot
before they could turn round. It was ridiculous how easy it had been.
Raymond had told him frankly that it must all be under the rose, as the
young lady's family disapproved of what she was doing. But she was of
legal age, and perfectly free; he could see that for himself. The parson
had given a grunt as he looked at her over his spectacles. It was not
very complimentary; it seemed to say that she was indeed no chicken. Of
course she looked old for a girl; but she was not a girl now, was she?
Raymond had certified his own identity as an officer in the United
States Navy (he had papers, besides his uniform, which he wore), and
introduced the clergyman to a friend he had brought with him, who was
also in the navy, a venerable paymaster. It was he who gave Georgina
away, as it were; he was an old, old man, a regular grandmother, and
perfectly safe. He had been married three times himself. After the
ceremony she went back to her father's; but she saw Mr. Benyon the next
day. After that, she saw him--for a little while--pretty often. He
was always begging her to come to him altogether; she must do him that
justice. But she wouldn't--she wouldn't now--perhaps she