“Romance is not confined to those ancient times.  If you were to enter that house to-day you would come across evidences of a wedding as romantic as any which ever took place in all the seventy odd years of its existence.  A man and a woman were married there day before yesterday who did their first courting under its roof forty years ago.  He has been married twice and she once in the interval; but the old love held firm and now at the age of sixty and over they have come together to finish their days in peace and happiness.  Or so we will hope.”

“Married! married in that house and on the day that—­”

She caught herself up in time.  He did not notice the break.

“Yes, in memory of those old days of courtship, I suppose.  They came here about five, got the keys, drove off, went through the ceremony in that empty house, returned the keys to me in my own apartment, took the steamer for Naples, and were on the sea before midnight.  Do you not call that quick work as well as highly romantic?”

“Very.”  Miss Strange’s cheek had paled.  It was apt to when she was greatly excited.  “But I don’t understand,” she added, the moment after.  “How could they do this and nobody know about it?  I should have thought it would have got into the papers.”

“They are quiet people.  I don’t think they told their best friends.  A simple announcement in the next day’s journals testified to the fact of their marriage, but that was all.  I would not have felt at liberty to mention the circumstances myself, if the parties were not well on their way to Europe.”

“Oh, how glad I am that you did tell me!  Such a story of constancy and the hold which old associations have upon sensitive minds!  But—­”

“Why, Miss?  What’s the matter?  You look very much disturbed.”

“Don’t you remember?  Haven’t you thought?  Something else happened that very day and almost at the same time on that block.  Something very dreadful—­”

“Mrs. Doolittle’s murder?”

“Yes.  It was as near as next door, wasn’t it?  Oh, if this happy couple had known—­”

“But fortunately they didn’t.  Nor are they likely to, till they reach the other side.  You needn’t fear that their honeymoon will be spoiled that way.”

“But they may have heard something or seen something before leaving the street.  Did you notice how the gentleman looked when he returned you the keys?”

“I did, and there was no cloud on his satisfaction.”

“Oh, how you relieve me!” One—­two dimples made their appearance in Miss Strange’s fresh, young cheeks.  “Well!  I wish them joy.  Do you mind telling me their names?  I cannot think of them as actual persons without knowing their names.”

“The gentleman was Constantin Amidon; the lady, Marian Shaffer.  You will have to think of them now as Mr. and Mrs. Amidon.”

“And I will.  Thank you, Mr. Hutton, thank you very much.  Next to the pleasure of getting the house for my friend, is that of hearing this charming bit of news its connection.