The time is morning; the date is early in the month of November.The place is a church, in a poor and populous parish in theundiscovered regions of London, eastward of the Tower, and hardby the river-side.

A marriage procession of five approaches the altar The bridegroomis pale, and the bride is frightened. The bride's friend (aresolute-looking little lady) encourages her in whispers. The tworespectable persons, apparently man and wife, who complete theprocession, seem to be not quite clear as to the position whichthey occupy at the ceremony. The beadle, as he marshals thembefore the altar, sees something under the surface in thiswedding-party. Marriages in the lower ranks of life are the onlymarriages celebrated here. Is this a runaway match? The beadleanticipates something out of the common in the shape of a fee.

The clergyman (the junior curate) appears from the vestry in hisrobes. The clerk takes his place. The clergyman's eye rests witha sudden interest and curiosity on the bride and bridegroom, andon the bride's friend; notices the absence of elderly relatives;remarks, in the two ladies especially, evidences of refinementand breeding entirely unparalleled in his professional experienceof brides and brides' friends standing before the altar of thatchurch; questions, silently and quickly, the eye of the clerk,occupied also in observing the strangers with interest"Jenkinson" (the clergyman's look asks), "is this all right?""Sir" (the clerk's look answers), "a marriage by banns; all theformalities have been observed." The clergyman opens his book.The formalities have been observed; his duty lies plainly beforehim. Attention, Launcelot! Courage, Natalie! The service begins.

Launce casts a last furtive look round the church. Will SirJoseph Graybrooke start up and stop it from one of the emptypews? Is Richard Turlington lurking in the organ-loft, and onlywaiting till the words of the service appeal to him to prohibitthe marriage, or "else hereafter forever to hold his peace?" No.The clergyman proceeds steadily, and nothing happens. Natalie'scharming face grows paler and paler, Natalie's heart throbsfaster and faster, as the time comes nearer for reading the wordswhich unite them for life. Lady Winwood herself feels anunaccustomed fluttering in the region of the bosom. Herladyship's thoughts revert, not altogether pleasantly, to her ownmarriage: "Ah me! what was I thinking of when I was in thisposition? Of the bride's beautiful dress, and of Lady Winwood'scoming presentation at court!"

The service advances to the words in which they plight theirtroth. Launce has put the ring on her finger. Launce has repeatedthe words after the clergyman. Launce has married her! Done! Comewhat may of it, done!

The service ends. Bridegroom, bride, and witnesses go into thevestry to sign the book. The signing, like the service, isserious. No trifling with the truth is possible here. When itcomes to Lady Winwood's turn, Lady Winwood must write her name.She does it, but without her usual grace and decision. She dropsher handkerchief. The clerk picks it up for her, and notices thata coronet is embroidered in one corner.

The fees are paid. They leave the vestry. Other couples, when itis over, are talkative and happy. These two are more silent andmore embarrassed than ever. Stranger still, while other couplesgo off with relatives and friends, all socially united in honorof the occasion, these two and their friends part at the churchdoor. The respectable man and his wife go their way on foot. Thelittle lady with the coronet on her handkerchief puts the brideinto a cab, gets in herself, and directs the driver to close thedoor, while the bridegroom is standing on the church steps! Thebridegroom's face is clouded, as well it may be. He puts his headin at the window of the cab; he possesses himself of the bride'shand; he speaks in a whisper; he is apparently not to be shakenoff. The little lady exerts her authority, separates the claspedhands, pushes the bridegroom away, and cries peremptorily to thedriver to go on. The cab starts; the deserted husband driftsdesolately anyhow down the street. The clerk, who has seen itall, goes back to the vestry and reports what has happened.

The rector (with his wife on his arm) has just dropped into thevestry on business in passing. He and the curate are talkingabout the strange marriage. The rector, gravely bent onascertaining that no blame rests with the church, interrogates,and is satisfied. The rector's wife is not so easy to deal with.She has looked at the signatures in the book. One of the names isfamiliar to her. She cross-examines the clerk as soon as herhusband is done with him. When she hears of the coronet on thehandkerchief she points to the signature of "Louisa Winwood," andsays to the rector, "I know who it is! Lord Winwood's secondwife. I went to school with his lordship's daughters by his firstmarriage. We occasionally meet at the Sacred Concerts (on the'Ladies' Committee'); I shall find an opportunity of speaking tothem. One moment, Mr. Jenkinson, I will write down the namesbefore you put away the book. 'Launcelot Linzie,' 'NatalieGraybrooke.' Very pretty names; quite romantic. I do delight in aromance. Good-morning."

She gives the curate a parting smile, and the clerk a partingnod, and sails out of the vestry. Natalie, silently returning inLady Winwood's company to Muswell Hill; and Launce, cursing thelaw of Abduction as he roams the streets--little think that theground is already mined under their feet. Richard Turlington mayhear of it now, or may hear of it later. The discovery of themarriage depends entirely on a chance meeting between the lord'sdaughters and the rector's wife.