[Gutenberg 10744] • Men, Women, and Ghosts

None at all. Understand that, please, to begin with. That you will at

once, and distinctly, recall Dr. Sharpe--and his wife, I make no doubt.

Indeed, it is because the history is a familiar one, some of the

unfamiliar incidents of which have come into my possession, that I

undertake to tell it.

My relation to the Doctor, his wife, and their friend, has been in many

respects peculiar. Without entering into explanations which I am not at

liberty to make, let me say, that those portions of their story which

concern our present purpose, whether or not they fell under my personal

observation, are accurately, and to the best of my judgment impartially,

related.

Nobody, I think, who was at the wedding, dreamed that there would ever

be such a story to tell. It was such a pretty, peaceful wedding! If you

were there, you remember it as you remember a rare sunrise, or a

peculiarly delicate May-flower, or that strain in a simple old song

which is like orioles and butterflies and dew-drops.

There were not many of us; we were all acquainted with one another; the

day was bright, and Harrie did not faint nor cry. There were a couple

of bridesmaids,--Pauline Dallas, and a Miss--Jones, I think,--besides

Harrie's little sisters; and the people were well dressed and well

looking, but everybody was thoroughly at home, comfortable, and on a

level. There was no annihilating of little country friends in gray

alpacas by city cousins in point and pearls, no crowding and no crush,

and, I believe, not a single "front breadth" spoiled by the ices.

Harrie is not called exactly pretty, but she must be a very plain woman

who is not pleasant to see upon her wedding day. Harrie's eyes shone,--I

never saw such eyes! and she threw her head back like a queen whom they

were crowning.

Her father married them. Old Mr. Bird was an odd man, with odd notions

of many things, of which marriage was one. The service was his own. I

afterwards asked him for a copy of it, which I have preserved. The

Covenant ran thus:--

"Appealing to your Father who is in heaven to witness your sincerity