Trina and McTeague knelt.  The dentist’s knees thudded on the floor and he presented to view the soles of his shoes, painfully new and unworn, the leather still yellow, the brass nail heads still glittering.  Trina sank at his side very gracefully, setting her dress and train with a little gesture of her free hand.  The company bowed their heads, Mr. Sieppe shutting his eyes tight.  But Mrs. Sieppe took advantage of the moment to stop crying and make furtive gestures towards Owgooste, signing him to pull down his coat.  But Owgooste gave no heed; his eyes were starting from their sockets, his chin had dropped upon his lace collar, and his head turned vaguely from side to side with a continued and maniacal motion.

All at once the ceremony was over before any one expected it.  The guests kept their positions for a moment, eyeing one another, each fearing to make the first move, not quite certain as to whether or not everything were finished.  But the couple faced the room, Trina throwing back her veil.  She—­perhaps McTeague as well—­felt that there was a certain inadequateness about the ceremony.  Was that all there was to it?  Did just those few muttered phrases make them man and wife?  It had been over in a few moments, but it had bound them for life.  Had not something been left out?  Was not the whole affair cursory, superficial?  It was disappointing.

But Trina had no time to dwell upon this.  Marcus Schouler, in the manner of a man of the world, who knew how to act in every situation, stepped forward and, even before Mr. or Mrs. Sieppe, took Trina’s hand.

“Let me be the first to congratulate Mrs. McTeague,” he said, feeling very noble and heroic.  The strain of the previous moments was relaxed immediately, the guests crowded around the pair, shaking hands—­a babel of talk arose.

“Owgooste, will you pull down your goat, den?”

“Well, my dear, now you’re married and happy.  When I first saw you two together, I said, ‘What a pair!’ We’re to be neighbors now; you must come up and see me very often and we’ll have tea together.”

“Did you hear that sawing going on all the time?  I declare it regularly got on my nerves.”

Trina kissed her father and mother, crying a little herself as she saw the tears in Mrs. Sieppe’s eyes.

Marcus came forward a second time, and, with an air of great gravity, kissed his cousin upon the forehead.  Heise was introduced to Trina and Uncle Oelbermann to the dentist.

For upwards of half an hour the guests stood about in groups, filling the little sitting-room with a great chatter of talk.  Then it was time to make ready for supper.

This was a tremendous task, in which nearly all the guests were obliged to assist.  The sitting-room was transformed into a dining-room.  The presents were removed from the extension table and the table drawn out to its full length.  The cloth was laid, the chairs—­rented from the dancing academy hard by—­drawn up, the dishes set out, and the two bouquets of cut flowers taken from the twins under their shrill protests, and “arranged” in vases at either end of the table.