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When the name of a free man of color had to appear on any formal document a deed of conveyance, a marriage-license, a certificate of birth or death, or even in a newspaper report the initials F.M.C. had to be appended.
The married women who ask the questions and who, with gracious kindness, hunt up attractive men for the unfortunate young woman to meet, are, all unknowingly, one great cause of stagnation in the marriage-license market. Nothing so pleases a woman safely inside the bonds of holy matrimony as to confide her sorrows, her regrets, and her broken ideals to her unattached friends.
I meant "Alicia" when I said "hear, hear" and when I officially produced my subscription list, it was all aglow with the roseate hues of the marriage-license. If any unsympathetic male readers should think this statement exaggerated, I appeal to the ladies they will appreciate the rigid, yet tender, truth of it. The night of the ball came. I have nothing but the vaguest recollection of it.
Where is your marriage-license, married reader? Do you know? Four men, not including Mr. Brede, stood or sat on one side or the other of that grape-trellis, and not one of them knew where his marriage-license was. Each of us had had one the Major had had three. But where were they? Where is yours?
But Well, to put it frankly, a woman who's been married three times might just as well never have been married at all. Looks as though she'd only squandered her money in rising to the nicety of a marriage-license. I hope you don't mean to marry her, old chap, because she's not your sort."
Huxley had imagined that the New World offered special advantages to a rising young person of scientific bent, but now he secured a marriage-license and settled down as lecturer at the School of Mines. A little later he began to teach at the Royal College of Surgeons, with which institution he was to be connected the rest of his life, and fill almost any chair that happened to be vacant.
"When you, my noble-hearted niece, proposed to make any sacrifice to marry this studious, honest, true-hearted German gentleman, who is worthy of you, if any man can be, I thought best to be ready for any emergency, and so I went the next day and procured the license, the clerk promising to keep my secret. A marriage-license is good for thirty days. You will see, Mr.
The eyes of the two men met. Neither of them dodged in the least or gave to the rigor of the other's gaze. "Referring to Jack's expedition, I presume." "You don't deny it, then." "My dear Kirby, I never waste breath in useless denials. You saw Jack. Therefore he must have been there." "He was. He brought away with him a page cut from the marriage-license registry." James lifted a hand of protest.
Would you like the matter arranged this afternoon?" Lane looked at his watch. "I haven't heard from my new bondsmen yet. Besides, I want to go to Golden. Would to-morrow morning suit you?" "I dare say." James stifled a yawn. "Did you say you were going to Golden?" "Yes. Some one gave me a tip. I don't know what there's in it, but I thought I'd have a look at the marriage-license registry."
Strangely enough, in this very edition the name of Horace Lindsley sprang out at her from the tiniest of type in the marriage-license column. Horace Lindsley, 3345 Bell Avenue. Carol Ingomar Devine, 3899 Westminster Place. The name of the bride was associated in Lilly's mind with the society columns of the Sunday Post-Dispatch.
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