" 'And as it is the policy of our law,' " Allan began, " 'to prevent the marriage of persons under the age of twenty-one, without the co nsent of parents and guardians' "--(Neelie made her first entry on the side of "Bad!" "I'm only seventeen next birthday, and circumstances forbid me to confide my attachment to papa")--" 'it is provided that in the case of the publication of banns of a person under twenty-one, not being a widower or widow, who are deemed emancipated' "--(Neelie made another entry on the depressing side: "Allan is not a widower, and I am not a widow;consequently, we are neither of us emancipated")--" 'if the parent or guardian openly signifies his dissent at the time the banns are published' "--("which papa would be certain to do")--"'such publication would be void.' I'll take breath here if you'll allow me," said Allan. "Blackstone might put it in shorter sentences, I think, if he can't put it in fewer words. Cheer up, Neelie! there must be other ways of marrying, besides this roundabout way, that ends in a Publication and a Void. Infernal gibberish! I could write better English myself.""We are not at the end of it yet," said Neelie. "The Void is nothing to what is to come.""Whatever it is," rejoined Allan, "we'll treat it like a dose of physic--we'll take it at once, and be done with it." He went on reading: " 'And no license to marry without banns shall be granted, unless oath shall be first made by one of the parties that he or she believes that there is no impediment of kindred or alliance'--well, I can take my oath of that with a safe conscience! What next? 'And one of the said parties must, for the space of fifteen days immediately preceding such license, have had his or her usual place of abode within the parish or chapelry within which such marriage is to be solemnized!' Chapelry! I'd live fifteen days in a dog-kennel with the greatest pleasure. Isay, Neelie, all this seems like plain sailing enough. What are you shaking your head about? Go on, and I shall see? Oh, all right; I'll go on. Here we are: 'And where one of the said parties, not being a widower or widow, shall be under the age of twenty-one years, oath must first be made that the consent of the person or persons whose consent is required has been obtained, or that there is no person having authority to give such consent.
The consent required by this act is that of the father--' " At those last formidable words Allan came to a full stop. "The consent of the father," he repeated, with all needful seriousness of look and manner. "I couldn't exactly swear to that, could I?"Neelie answered in expressive silence. She handed him the pocket-book, with the final entry completed, on the side of "Bad," in these terms: "Our marriage is impossible, unless Allan commits perjury."The lovers looked at each other, across the insuperable obstacle of Blackstone, in speechless dismay.
"Shut up the book," said Neelie, resignedly. "I have no doubt we should find the police, and the prison, and the hair-cutting--all punishments for perjury, exactly as I told you!--if we looked at the next page. But we needn't trouble ourselves to look; we have found out quite enough already. It's all over with us. I must go to school on Saturday, and you must manage to forget me as soon as you can. Perhaps we may meet in after-life, and you may be a widower and I may be a widow, and the cruel law may consider us emancipated, when it's too late to be of the slightest use. By that time, no doubt, I shall be old and ugly, and you will naturally have ceased to care about me, and it will all end in the grave, and the sooner the better. Good-by," concluded Neelie, rising mournfully, with the tears in her eyes. "It's only prolonging our misery to stop here, unless--unless you have anything to propose?""I've got something to propose," cried the headlong Allan. "It's an entirely new idea. Would you mind trying the blacksmith at Gretna Green?""No earthly consideration," answered Neelie, indignantly, "would induce me to be married by a blacksmith!""Don't be offended," pleaded Allan; "I meant it for the best.
Lots of people in our situation have tried the blacksmith, and found him quite as good as a clergyman, and a most amiable man, Ibelieve, into the bargain. Never mind! We must try another string to our bow.""We haven't got another to try," said Neelie.
"Take my word for it," persisted Allan, stoutly, "there must be ways and means of circumventing Blackstone (without perjury), if we only knew of them. It's a matter of law, and we must consult somebody in the profession. I dare say it's a risk. But nothing venture, nothing have. What do you say to young Pedgift? He's a thorough good fellow. I'm sure we could trust young Pedgift to keep our secret.""Not for worlds!" exclaimed Neelie. "You may be willing to trust your secrets to the vulgar little wretch; I won't have him trusted with mine. I hate him. No!" she concluded, with a mounting color and a peremptory stamp of her foot on the grass.
