"Yes, I do," said the Doctor.
"We're going to Mr. Shears, two blocks down the street." said Jared
imperviously.
"You're going to stop here," said the Doctor.
The force of personal relation prevailed--as it almost always does when
given a chance. Jared yielded; Melissa acquiesced. She detached her frown
from the Doctor's house-front, climbed down out of the buggy, accompanied
Jared and the Doctor indoors, and he made them one forthwith.
The Doctor's performance of the marriage ceremony was famous--the town
was full of people who would never let anybody but Dr. Gowdy marry them.
To those who knew, Mr. Shears was nowhere. The Doctor's method was a
wonderful blend of gravity and of intimacy; he made you feel that you
were the one man and woman in the world--the world summed up, indeed, in
a single pair--and that you were going through a ceremony just a shade
more solemn than any other man or woman had ever gone through before. His
voice would be shot through with little tremors that showed his sincerity
and his individual interest--briefly, Jared and Melissa had no cause to
regret Mr. Shears.
The Doctor kissed the bride in hearty, fatherly fashion--Henrietta kissed
her too--and refused the fee Jared offered him.
"No," he said; "I've cost you too much already."
Jared wrung the Doctor's hand, and wondered that any mere man could fill
his heart with such a tremor and such a glow.
"I'm going to see you again before you leave for the East?" asked the
Doctor.
"Well, I have two weeks, at three hundred a week, with the Gayety
Theayter," said Jared. "I put the finishing-touches to a picture every
night in full view of the audience, and frame it with my own hands."
"Good-bye here, then," said the Doctor.