"After all, though, of course, I'm sad in one way," said Esther, more
practical in her felicitations, "I'm glad in another that father
wouldn't give me away. For it was really you who gave me to Mike long
ago; wasn't it?--and so it's only as it should be that you should give
me to him to-day."
"You'll never forget what we've been to each other?"
"Don't you know?"
"Yes, but our love has no organs and presents and prayer-books to bind
it together."
"Do you think it needs it?"
"Of course not! But it would be fun for us too some day to have a
marriage. Why should only one kind of love have its marriage ceremony?
When Mike's and your wedding is over, let's tell him that we're going
to send out cards for ours!"
"All right. What form shall the ceremony take--_Parfait Amour_?"
"You haven't forgotten?"
"I shall forget just the second after you--not before--and, no, I won't
be mean, I'll not even forget you then."
"Kiss me, Esther," said Henry.
"Kiss me again, Esther," he said. "Do you remember?"
"The cake and the beating?"
"Yes, that was our marriage.
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