Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-09-22


 and flowing sleeves. Harry Sanderson had just taken his stand. Perhaps more looked at Harry than at the door. ......
 He seemed bis usual magnetic self as he stood there. backed by the flow CTS. his waving brown hair unsmooth. ed, the ruby ring glowing dull red against the dark leather of the book he held. But Harry Sanderson was far from feeling the grave. alien figure he appeared. In the past weeks he had waged silent warfare with himself. bitter becssse repressed. The strange new thing Shat had sprung up in him he had trampled mercilessly under. From the thought that he loved the promised wife of another quick. fas- tidious sense in him recoiled abashed. This painful struggle had been sharp ened by his sense of Hugh's utter worthlessness. To that rustling assem- blaze the man who was to make those solemn promises was David Stires' son. who had had his fling, turned over his new leaf becomingly and was now offering substantial hostages to good repute. To him. Harry Sanderson. he was haneur, O marginless gambler in the futures of his fathers favor and woman's heart
 Only a moment Harry stood waiting; then the palm screened musicians be- gan the march, and Hugh took his place, animated and assured, looking the flushed and expectant bridegroom. At the same instant the chattering and hubbub ceased. Jessica, on the arm of the old man. erect, but walking feebly with his cane, was advancing down the roped lane.
 Harry's eyes dropped to the opened book, though he knew the office by heart. He spoke the time worn ad- juration with clear enunciation. with almost perfunctory distinctness. He did not look at Hugh.
 If any man can show just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together. let him speak or else here after forever hold his peace" In the pause-the slightest pause-that turned the page he felt an insane prompting to tear otf his robes. to proclaim to this roomful of heated, gaping. fan futter- ing humanity that he himself. min ister of the gospel. the celebrant of the rite. knew "just cause"
 The choking impulse passed. The pc riods rolled on. The long white glove was slipped from the hand. the ring put on the finger. and the pair whom God and Harry Sanderson had joined together were kneeling on the white satin priedieu with bowed heads un- der the final invocation. As they knelt choir voices rose.
 Then. while the music fingered. the hush of the room broke in confused murmur, the white ribbon wound ropes were let down. and a voluble wave of congratulations swept over the spot In a moment more Harry found himself laying of his robes in the next room With a sigh of relief he stepped through the wide French window into the garden. The strain over, he longed for the solitude of his study. But Da- vid Stires had asked him to remain for a final word, since bride and groom were to leave on an early evening train; the old man was to accompany them a part of the journey. and "the Stires place" was to be closed for an indefinite period.
 It was not long before the sound of gay voices and of carriage wheels came around the corner of the house, for the reception was to be curtailed. One by one he heard the carriages roll down the graveled driveway. A last chime of voices talking together-Har- ry could distinguish Hugh's voice now and at length quiet told him the last of the guests were gone.
 The east room was empty save for servants who were gathering some of the cut flowers for themselves. He stood aimlessly for a few moments looking about him. A white carnation lay at the foot of the dais. fallen from Jessica's shower bouquet. He picked this up. abstractedly smelled its per fume and drew the stem through his buttonhole. He heard voices in the li- brary. and. opening the door, he en- tered.
 In the room sat old David Stires in his wheel chair opposite his son. He