noised abroad that Anna and Jamie were to be
married.

The Gilmores strenuously objected. They objected because they had
another career mapped out for Anna. Jamie was illiterate, too, and she
was well educated. He was a Protestant and she an ardent Catholic.
Illiteracy was common enough and might be overlooked, but a mixed
marriage was unthinkable.

The Irvines, on the other hand, although very poor, could see nothing
but disaster in marriage with a Catholic, even though she was as "pure
and beautiful as the Virgin."

"It's a shame an' a scandal," others said, "that a young fella who can't
read his own name shud marry sich a nice girl wi' sich larnin'."

Jamie made some defense but it wasn't convincing.

"Doesn't the Bible say maan an' wife are wan?" he asked Mrs. Gilmore in
discussing the question with her.

"Aye."

"Well, when Anna an' me are wan won't she haave a thrade an' won't I
haave an education?"

"That's wan way ov lukin' at a vexed question, but you're th' only wan
that luks at it that way!"

"There's two," Anna said. "That's how I see it."

When Jamie became a journeyman shoemaker, the priest was asked to
perform the marriage ceremony. He refused and there was nothing left to
do but get a man who would give love as big a place as religion, and
they were married by the vicar of the parish church.

Not in the memory of man in that community had a wedding created so
little interest in one way and so much in another. They were both
"turncoats," the people said, and they were shunned by both sides. So
they drank their first big draft of the "cup o' grief" on their
wedding-day.

"Sufferin' will be yer portion in this world," Anna's mother told her,
"an' in th' world t' come separation from yer maan."

Anna kissed her mother and said:

"I've made my choice, mother, I've made it before God, and as for
Jamie's welfare in the next world, I'm sure that love like his would
turn either Limbo, Purgatory or Hell into a very nice place to live in!"

A few days after the wedding the young couple went out to the four
cross-roads. Jamie stood his staff on end and said:

"Are ye ready, dear?"

"Aye, I'm ready, but don't tip it in the direction of your preference!"
He was inclined toward Dublin, she toward Belfast. They laughed. Jamie
suddenly took his hand from the staff and it fell, neither toward
Belfast nor Dublin, but toward the town of Antrim, and toward Antrim
they set out on foot. It was a distanc