"Then she fell down before me and tried to take my hand. But I stepped
back and said:

"'I've made you an honest woman, Fanny Montrose, and now as long as I
live I'm going to see you do nothing to disgrace my child.'

"And I went out and took the train back. And Mr. Gilday was at the
station there waiting for me, and he took my arm, without a word, and
led me to his carriage and drove up without speaking. And when we got to
the house, he got out, and took off his hat and made me a bow and said:
'I'm proud to know you, Larry Moore.'"

MY WIFE'S WEDDING PRESENTS

I

I don't believe in wedding functions. I don't believe in honeymoons and
particularly I abominate the inhuman custom of giving wedding presents.
And this is why:

Clara was the fifth poor daughter of a rich man. I was respectably poor
but artistic. We had looked forward to marriage as a time when two
persons chose a home and garnished it with furnishings of their own
choice, happy in the daily contact with beautiful things. We had often
discussed our future home. We knew just the pictures that must hang on
the walls, the tone of the rugs that should lie on the floors, the style
of the furniture that should stand in the rooms, the pattern of the
silver that should adorn our table. Our ideas were clear and positive.

Unfortunately Clara had eight rich relatives who approved of me and I
had three maiden aunts, two of whom were in precarious health and must
not be financially offended.

I am rather an imperious man, with theories that a woman is happiest
when she finds a master; but when the details of the wedding came up for
decision I was astounded to find myself not only flouted but actually
forced to humiliating surrender. Since then I have learned that my own
case was not glaringly exceptional. At the time, however, I was
nonplused and rather disturbed in my dreams of the future. I had decided
on a house wedding with but the family and a few intimate friends to be
present at my happiness. After Clara had done me the honor to consult
me, several thousand cards were sent out for the ceremony at the church
and an addition was begun on the front veranda.

Clara herself led me to the library and analyzed the situation to me, in
the profoundest manner.

"You dear, old, impracticable goose," she said with the wisdom of just
twenty, "what do you know about such things? How much do you suppose it
will cost us to furnish a house the way we