"Later," grinned Hedgerly. "Doubtless the brides are being very well
kissed right now?"
"Thoroughly. I see your point."
"Yeah," drawled Hedgerly with a smile. "I've often thought it was a
strange way to start a fidelitous wedlock--for the bride to go around
bestowing kisses on all and sundry males."
"My point exactly. The man to kiss the bride is her new husband and
none other. You are a discerning man, sir. I don't know--"
"Hedgerly. A not-too-distant relative of Peter Hedgerly."
"Then you know the names of all of them?"
"Known then for years."
"Fine. Then you can help me with their names. Mind?"
"Not at all," smiled Hedgerly. "They are Peter Hedgerly, Marie Baker,
Anthony Graydon, and Joan Willson."
The parson put the names down and then turned to his desk. He picked
up a rather heavy script-pen and started to write the names in on the
dotted lines in a heavy ornate script. Finished, he arose and said:
"Come on, Mr. Hedgerly." He waved the certificates, saying: "I like to
write these things in with a heavy flourish. It seems to give them more
color or taste or whatever than merely scrawling the names in common
handwriting."
Hedgerly followed at a little distance. He wanted to see Peter's face
when the young man read the certificate and found out who he was really
married to. Furthermore, Hedgerly wanted to be there to point out who
was wedded to whom and why.
Peter accepted the certificate and put his arm around Joan with a
fatuous expression. Tony kissed Marie. They all started for the door.
Hedgerly ran forward, but the parson stopped him. "Hedgerly," he said,
"you made one mistake. Never, never, never, try to hurl any woman
at any man's head. They both resent it. And never, never, count on
anything as being certain. And always, when you're trying to juggle the
future, be certain of the true ancestry of those who have a definite
part of it. I'll offer you a lift, Hedgerly, for I'm going your way,
but not as far."
"But ... but--"
Parson Hedgerly smiled. "Two couples," he said, "happily married to the
right people--by their own son! Yeah, Hedgerly, you're not the only one
who has a good probability of being. But your probability is slipping
from decimal point to decimal point right now--and I doubt that you are
even a shadow of your present self by the time we finish this trip back
home."