he
ceremony," added Watterly, who was inclined to be a little hilarious
over the affair.

Holcroft, however, maintained his grave manner, and when they reached
the almshouse he took Watterly aside and said, "See here, Tom, you've
been a good friend today and seconded me in everything. Now let the
affair pass off just as quietly and seriously as possible. She's too
cast down for a gay wedding. Suppose we had a daughter who'd been
through such an experience--a nice, good, modest girl. Her heart's too
sore for fun and jokes. My marrying her is much the same as pulling
her out of deep water in which she was sinking."

"You're right, Jim. I didn't think, and one doesn't have much cause to
be so sparing of the feelings of such creatures as come here. But
she's out of the common run, and I ought to have remembered it. By
jocks! You're mighty careful about promising to love, cherish, and
obey, and all that, but I guess you'll do a sight more than many who do
promise."

"Of course I'm going to be kind. That's my duty. Give Harkins a hint.
Tell him that she's lost her mother. He needn't know when the old lady
died, but it will kind of solemnize him."

Watterly did as requested, and Harkins, now convinced that his
political interests could be furthered by careful compliance with all
requirements, put on a grave, official air and was ready for business.

Alida was sent for. She was too agitated to say farewell to any of the
poor creatures with whom she had been compelled to associate--even to
the few who, though scarcely sane, had manifested tenderness and
affection. She had felt that she must reserve all her strength for the
coming ordeal, which she both welcomed and feared inexpressibly. She
knew how critical was the step she was taking and how much depended on
it, yet the more she thought, the more it seemed to her as if
Providence had, as by a miracle, given her a refuge. Holcroft's
businesslike view of the marriage comforted her greatly, and she asked
God to give her health and strength to work faithfully for him many
years.

But she had sad misgivings as she followed the messenger, for she felt
so weak that she could scarcely walk. It was indeed a pallid,
sorrowful, trembling bride that entered Mr. Watterly's parlor.
Holcroft met her and taking her hand, said kindly, "Courage! It will
be over in a minute."

She was so pale and agitated that the justice asked, "do you enter into
this marriage freely a