n as to the
probable outcome of conditions which did not obtain, and the trivial
space of time which was demanded for the shaking-out and re-coaling of
a furnace was largely responsible for John D. Curtis and Hermione
Beauregard Grandison being made man and wife.

Curiously enough, the tying of this particular knot was facilitated by
the fact that the clergyman was hale mentally but decrepit physically,
and, as might be expected, resented the conclusion, long ago arrived at
by his friends, that he was unfitted for work. He burgeoned with
delight when a servant announced that two young people wanting to get
married were waiting in the vestibule; he hobbled out of the library,
where he was poring over an essay on the Sixtine text of the
Septuagint, and ushered them into a parlor. The room was not
well-lighted, because of some defect in the electric installation, but
the old gentleman--"Rev. Thomas J. Hughes" was the legend on the
door-plate--bustled about in the liveliest way, and talked most
cheerfully.

"Ah, young folk--as usual, leaving things to the last moment, and then
in a desperate hurry," he chirped. "Got the license--yes? Complied
with all the formalities? Of course, of course. Where's the ring?
You've _not_ forgotten the ring?"

Curtis and Hermione looked at each other in blank dismay; even
Marcelle's aplomb yielded under this unforeseen strain, and her
agitation showed itself in a gasping murmur:

"Oh dear! What shall we do now?"

Mr. Hughes positively chortled over their discomfiture. He limped to a
secretaire, and opened a drawer.

"See what it is to have a long experience in these affairs," he cried.
"Do you fancy you are the first couple who failed to provide a ring?
Ah me! When I was quite a boy in the cloth I learnt the necessity of
keeping rings in stock, so a jeweler friend of mind replenishes my
store, and, when I sell one, I apply a small profit to a favorite
charity of mine. The wearing of a wedding ring has no legal
significance, but it is a fine old custom, and should be preserved.
Among the Romans the ring was a pledge, _pignus_, that the betrothal
contract would be fulfilled. Pliny tells us that the ring, or circle,
was of iron, but the ladies speedily determined that it should be of
gold, and the Church went a step farther in recognizing it as a symbol
of matrimony. Hence, perhaps, the Episcopal ring, and even the Ring of
the Fisherman itself, though some authorities hold th