where everybody knows a marriage must be
contracted in church. The friends of the two unfortunate lovers send
out their cards, announcing their approaching nuptials, and also the
fact that they will both be masked during the ceremony."

"How strange!" Edith murmured.

"Yes, it is both a novel and an extravagant idea," Mrs. Goddard
assented; "but, of course, nobody minds that in a play--the more
extravagant and unreal, the better it suits the public nowadays. Well,
the parents and friends of the couple naturally object to this
arrangement, but they finally carry their point. Everything is
arranged, and the wedding-day arrives. Only the parents and a few
friends are supposed to be present, and, at the appointed hour, the
bridal party--consisting of the ushers and four bridesmaids, a
maid-of-honor, and the bride, leaning upon her father's arm, proceed
slowly to the altar, where they are met by the groom, best man, and
clergyman. Then comes the ceremony, which seems just as real as if it
were a _bona-fide_ marriage, you know; and when the young couple turn
to leave the church, as husband and wife, they remove their masks, and
behold! the truth is revealed. There is, of course, great
astonishment, and some dismay manifested on the part of the obdurate
parents, who are among the invited guests; but the deed is done--it
would not do to make a scene or any disturbance in church, and so they
are forced to make the best of the affair, and accept the situation."

"But what becomes of the couple who planned all this for their
friends?" Edith inquired.

"Oh, they were privately married half an hour earlier, and come in at
a rear door just in season to follow the bridal party down the aisle,
and join in the wedding-feast at home."

"It is a very strange plot--a very peculiar conception," murmured
Edith, musingly.

"Yes, it is very Frenchy, and extremely unique, and will be carried
out splendidly, if nothing unforeseen occurs to mar the acting, for
the amateurs I have chosen are all very good. But now I must run down
to see that everything is all right for the evening, before I dress.
By the way," she added, as if the thought had just occurred to her, "I
would like you to put on something pretty, and come to help me in the
dressing-room during the play. Have you a white dress here?"

"Yes; it is not a very modern one, but it was nice in its day," Edith
replied.

"Very well; I shall not mind the cut of it, if it is only white