march from
Lohengrin sounded, and every one arose to get a peep at what was
happening in the centre aisle. Von Barwig craned his neck to see. The
bride had entered the church and was coming up the aisle on the arm of
Mr. Stanton, her supposed father, preceded by the ushers. The
bridegroom and his best man awaited them at the chancel steps. At the
sight of Stanton Von Barwig felt his heart beat thickly. This man had
broken up his home, robbed him of his wife and child, and now posed as
the girl's father. What a splendid revenge he could take by publicly
denouncing him in the midst of his friends. Von Barwig quickly stifled
any impulse in that direction. He had come to witness his daughter's
happiness, not to mar it by the demonstration of publicly unmasking a
villain. He sat back in his seat and watched the proceedings with
breathless interest. The marriage ceremony proceeded. The old
clergyman who read the service, unlike most of his class, read it with
feeling, as if he understood the meaning of the words he was uttering.
So clear, so natural was his utterance that Von Barwig followed every
word of it, scarcely realising that the man was reading and not merely
speaking. When he came to the question, "Who giveth this woman to be
married to this man?" the clergyman looked around the church as if
expecting some one in the vast congregation to rise and say, "I do."
There was no answer. It seemed to Von Barwig that the minister was
looking directly at him, and not only looking at him, but tacitly
asking a reply. Once more in compelling tones came the momentous
question, "Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" Von
Barwig was now quite positive that the clergyman was addressing himself
directly to him, and he felt that the moment had come to declare the
truth to the whole world.

As in a dream one makes no effort to connect the present with the past
or future or to account in any way for the logic of events, so did Von
Barwig make no effort to understand how or why his secret was known to
the clergyman. He simply accepted the fact as it appeared to him and
made no effort to resist the impulse to rise and declare himself. So
when Henry Stanton uttered the words, "I do," almost at the same moment
from the back of the church came the loud, deep voice of Von Barwig
quivering with emotion, "I do, I do!" Everybody arose and looked
around. For a moment there was great consternation in the church.
Cries