wonder as to why my worthy patron here should want to marry you. Of course
you are wealthy, but, personally, I would not have you for double the
money. I must ask you to rise, Lady Rokesle.--Pardon me if I somewhat
anticipate your title."

Lady Allonby stumbled to her feet. "Is there no manhood in the world?" she
asked, with a puzzled voice. "Has neither of you ever heard of manhood,
though but as distantly as men hear summer thunder? Had neither of you a
woman for a mother--a woman, as I am--or a father who was not--O God!--not
as you are?"

"These rhetorical passages," said Lord Rokesle, "while very elegantly
expressed, are scarcely to the point. So you and Simon went a-philandering
once? Egad, that lends quite a touch of romance to the affair. But
despatch, Parson Simon,--your lady's for your betters now."

"Dearly beloved,--" said Simon Orts.

"Simon, you are not all base. I am helpless, Simon, utterly helpless. There
was a Simon once would not have seen me weep. There was a Simon--"

"--we are gathered together here in the sight of God--"

"You cannot do it, Simon,--do I not know you to the marrow? Remember--not
me--not the vain folly of my girlhood!--but do you remember the man you
have been, Simon Orts!" Fiercely Lady Allonby caught him by the shoulder.
"For you do remember! You do remember, don't you, Simon?"

The Vicar stared at her. "The man I have been," said Simon Orts, "yes!--the
man I have been!" Something clicked in his throat with sharp distinctness.