THE MASKED MARRIAGE     (A Tale Of Venice)
    Gondola after gondola swept up to the marble     steps, and left its lovely load to swell the     brilliant throng that filled the stately halls of Count     Adelon.  Knights and ladies, elves and pages, monks     and flower girls, all mingled gaily in the dance.
    Sweet voices and rich melody filled the air, and so     with mirth and music the masquerade went on.
    "Has your Highness seen the Lady Viola tonight?"
    asked a gallant troubadour of the fairy queen who     floated down the hall upon his arm.
    "Yes, is she not lovely, though so sad!  Her     dress is well chosen, too, for in a week she weds     Count Antonio, whom she passionately hates."
    "By my faith, I envy him.  Yonder he comes,     arrayed like a bridegroom, except the black mask.
    When that is off we shall see how he regards the     fair maid whose heart he cannot win, though her     stern father bestows her hand," returned the troubadour.
    "Tis whispered that she loves the young English     artist who haunts her steps, and is spurned by the     old Count," said the lady, as they joined the dance.
    The revel was at its height when a priest     appeared, and withdrawing the young pair to an alcove,     hung with purple velvet, he motioned them to kneel.
    Instant silence fell on the gay throng, and not a     sound, but the dash of fountains or the rustle of     orange groves sleeping in the moonlight, broke the     hush, as Count de Adelon spoke thus:
    "My lords and ladies, pardon the ruse by which     I have gathered you here to witness the marriage of     my daughter.  Father, we wait your services."
    All eyes turned toward the bridal party, and a     murmur of amazement went through the throng, for     neither bride nor groom removed their masks.  Curiosity     and wonder possessed all hearts, but respect restrained     all tongues till the holy rite was over.  Then the     eager spectators gathered round the count, demanding     an explanation.
    "Gladly would I give it if I could, but I only     know that it was the whim of my timid Viola, and I     yielded to it.  Now, my children, let the play end.
    Unmask and receive my blessing."
    But neither bent the knee, for the young bridegroom     replied in a tone that startled all listeners     as the mask fell, disclosing the noble face of Ferdinand     Devereux, the artist lover, and leaning on the     breast where now flashed the star of an English earl     was the lovely Viola, radiant with joy and beauty.
    "My lord, you scornfully bade me claim your     daughter when I could boast as high a name and vast a     fortune as the Count Antonio.  I can do more, for even     your ambitious soul cannot refuse the Earl of Devereux     and De Vere, when he gives his ancient name and boundless     wealth in return for the beloved hand of this fair lady,     now my wife."
    The count stood like one changed to stone, and     turning to the bewildered crowd, Ferdinand added, with     a gay smile of triumph, "To you, my gallant friends, I     can only wish that your wooing may prosper as mine has     done, and that you may all win as fair a bride as I have     by this masked marriage."
    S.  PICKWICK 
    Why is the P.  C.  like the Tower of Babel?
    It is full of unruly members.