for. He had a troubled notion that he had to do something or other. He saw his wife's bonnet, and wondered why she wasn't there with him.

They stood before the altar. He was staring up at the east window, that glowed intensely, a sort of blue purple: it was deep blue glowing, and some crimson, and little yellow flowers held fast in veins of shadow, in a heavy web of darkness. How it burned alive in radiance among its black web.

“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?” He felt somebody touch him.

He started. The words still re-echoed in his memory, but were drawing off.

“Me,” he said hastily.

Ann bent her head and smiled in her veil. How absurd he was.