igious, that joins the two together--'until death
do us part,'" he finished, looking at Celis with unutterable devotion.

"What makes us all feel foolish," I told the girls, "is that here we
have nothing to give you--except, of course, our names."

"Do your women have no names before they are married?" Celis suddenly
demanded.

"Why, yes," Jeff explained. "They have their maiden names--their
father's names, that is."

"And what becomes of them?" asked Alima.

"They change them for their husbands', my dear," Terry answered her.

"Change them? Do the husbands then take the wives' 'maiden names'?"

"Oh, no," he laughed. "The man keeps his own and gives it to her, too."

"Then she just loses hers and takes a new one--how unpleasant! We won't
do that!" Alima said decidedly.

Terry was good-humored about it. "I don't care what you do or don't do
so long as we have that wedding pretty soon," he said, reaching a strong
brown hand after Alima's, quite as brown and nearly as strong.

"As to giving us things--of course we can see that you'd like to, but
we are glad you can't," Celis continued. "You see, we love you just for
yourselves--we wouldn't want you to--to pay anything. Isn't it enough to
know that you are loved personally--and just as men?"

Enough or not, that was the way we were married. We had a great triple
wedding in the biggest temple of all, and it looked as if most of the
nation was present. It was very solemn and very beautiful. Someone had
written a new song for the occasion, nobly beautiful, about the New Hope
for their people--the New Tie with other lands--Brotherhood as well as
Sisterhood, and, with evident awe, Fatherhood.

Terry was always restive under their talk of fatherhood. "Anybody'd
think we were High Priests of--of Philoprogenitiveness!" he protested.
"These women think of NOTHING but children, seems to me! We'll teach
'em!"

He was so certain of what he was going to teach, and Alima so uncertain
in her moods of reception, that Jeff and I feared the worst. We tried to
caution him--much good that did. The big handsome fellow drew himself up
to his full height, lifted that great chest of his, and laughed.

"There are three separate marriages," he said. "I won't interfere with
yours--nor you with mine."

So the great day came, and the countless crowds of women, and we three
bridegrooms without any supporting "best men," or any other men to back
us up, felt strangely small as we came for