Between Two Worlds

by Sinclair, Upton;

  35

  Whom God Hath Joined

  I

  So now began the adventure of trying to get married in England. Lanny had only the vaguest notions about it. Was it done by a clergyman, or by some public functionary, or both? Was the consent of parents necessary? And up to what age? “Perhaps you had better say you are twenty-one,” he suggested. Irma answered with a straight face that she had become twenty-one the week before.

  The first idea that occurred to him was a “chapel.” His new stepfather went to meetings in little buildings called by that name. It must be that he minister, or preacher, or whatever he was called, could marry members of his own flock, and maybe he could oblige two visiting strangers. Lanny turned his car off the main road and began wandering through little streets. Presently he stopped a small boy and inquired, in the best English he could muster: “Eh, laddie, where’s the chapel?”

  “Wot chapel?” demanded the boy.

  “Any chapel.”

  “Don’t know no chapel.”

  So the car rolled on. It was a peculiarity of this tight little island that is own inhabitants rarely knew where anything was if it was more than a quarter of a mile away. They must have had a difficult time with their geography lessons, because every villa had its individual name, and so did most every field, large tree, stile, pump, or other creation of nature or man. Few streets could pass more than three intersections without acquiring a new direction and a new name, and from there on you were in a foreign country.

  At last they found a man who attended a chapel, and gave them directions in language which Lanny was able to interpret. In the living quarters adjoining the building they found a gray-bearded gentleman who said that he was the pastor, and when Lanny asked: “Can you marry people?” he declared with dignity: “This is a place of worship duly registered for the solemnizing of marriage under the Marriage Act of 1836, and I am a person duly authorized by the governing body of the place of worship in question.”

  “Then we should like to be married,” remarked the visitor, humbly.

  “I shall be happy to accommodate you,” said the man of God. “Are you a resident of this parish?”

  “I don’t know. What are the boundaries of it?”

  The minister outlined them, and they were not big enough to include either Irma’s hotel or Margy’s town-house. “However, that is easily arranged,” said the pastor. Apparently he had noted the fashionable costumes of the strangers, and now he noted their fashionable addresses, and desired to retain them as customers. “All that is necessary for you to do is to rent a room and leave a bag in it, and that constitutes it your legal residence.”

  “For how long do we have to do that?”

  “The banns are published in this chapel next Sunday and for two Sundays thereafter, and then you can be married at any time.”

  “Oh, but we wish to be married at once.”

  “Unfortunately that is not possible, sir.”

  “You mean that nobody can marry us at once?”

  “You can obtain a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury—but that will cost you something like sixty pounds.”

  “And then we can be married today?”

  “Then you can be married after twenty-four hours.”

  “But that is extremely inconvenient. We wish to travel.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but that is our English law.” So Lanny and the old gentleman expressed their mutual regrets, and Lanny and his lady went out to their car and drove away.

  II

  “Maybe he wanted the fee,” suggested Irma; “so he wouldn’t tell us any other way.”

  “My father has a firm of solicitors in London,” replied the would-be bridegroom. “I will consult one of them.”

  He found a telephone, and presently was in conversation with Mr. Harold Stafforth, of the firm of Stafforth and Worthingham. Lanny and his father had had lunch more than once with this gentleman, and now as Lanny talked he had before him the image of a tall, lean-faced person of dry temperament, precise ideas, and extraordinarily few words. Lanny knew that he couldn’t fool him, and that the first duty was to satisfy him. He said:

  “Mr. Stafforth, I wish to get married. The young lady in question is a great American heiress, and her mother is not entirely cordial to me. My father knows all about the match and approves it; he offered to travel to Italy in order to try to arrange matters with the young lady’s mother. I know you will wish to be sure of this, and I pledge you my word. Now the young lady has come to London, and has made up her own mind, and in order to avoid discussion and publicity we decided to have a secret wedding, and have it today if possible. Is that possible?”

  “Not in England,” said the solicitor. Having answered the question, he waited for the next one.

  “I have read somewhere about people going to Scotland to be married, and I have a car and could drive there. Can that be done?”

  “You can be married in Scotland at once, by taking each other’s hands and saying that you are man and wife.”

  “And will that be valid?”

  “It will be valid in Scotland.”

  “But will it be valid elsewhere?”

  “It will not be valid in England.”

  “Then that wouldn’t do. How about the possibility of traveling to Belgium or Holland or some other country?”

  “I do not happen to know the laws in those countries, but I shall be happy to look the matter up for you if you wish.”

  “Can you suggest any way in which we could be married without delay?”

  “If you are prepared to take a sea voyage, you can be married on the high seas by the licensed master of any merchant or passenger vessel.”

  “And will that be valid anywhere?”

  “Provided that you are ten miles from the English coast, it will be valid under English law, and so far as I know it will be valid under the laws of all countries.”

  Lanny thought quickly. “I have a friend who has a yacht. Would the master of such a vessel be in position to marry us?”

  “Is the yacht of British registry?”

  “German.”

  “I cannot tell you about the German law without looking it up; but if such a master is authorized by the German law, the marriage would be valid under our Maritime Act of 1894.”

  “The German master would probably know what he was empowered to do, I suppose?”

  “I should say that he would be required to have a copy of the laws in which his own powers and duties are defined.”

  “I will make inquiries of the master. Thank you very much, Mr. Stafforth.”

  “You are quite welcome,” said the solicitor. “I wish you success in your efforts and happiness in your marriage.”

  “Thank you again,” replied the young man. “Kindly charge this service to my father’s account.” All the proprieties having thus been conformed to, he hung up.

  III

  As it happened, Lanny had already consulted the newspapers and made note as to the state of the tides; he believed that the Bessie Budd could not yet be in the basin of Rams-gate, but he took the precaution to telephone and make sure. In this little harbor the vessels lie against an embankment, so that they are right in the street, or alongside it, and the first thing which happens is that a telephone cable is run aboard; on the Bessie Budd they had had a telephone not merely in the saloon, but in every cabin, in the steward’s office, and on the bridge. Lanny now called the town, and learned that the yacht had not yet put in appearance.

  He went out and told Irma what he had learned. He proposed that they should drive to Ramsgate, and as soon as the yacht arrived it would turn around and start another voyage.

  “Oh, how romantic!” exclaimed the girl. She was charmed by the idea of being taken out to sea in order to escape from the clutches of the Archbishop of Canterbury. “Do you suppose Mr. Robin will really do that for us?”

  “Of course he will. If he’s too busy himself he can go on to London and let Captain
Moeller oblige us. The whole family will be delighted. They already have one bride and groom on board, you know.”

  “Let’s get going!” said the girl—who came from New York.

  They set out down the valley of that not very large river which is so crowded with shipping from every part of the earth, and with tugs and lighters and pleasure craft and everything that floats. The tide rushes in very fast and rushes out even faster, owing to embankments which keep it from spreading out over the marshes. Where nature had put marshes men had made great basins with piers and sheds, and behind them gigantic slums for the workers. Lanny told his bride-to-be-soon how he had got lost in those slums when he was a small boy. He told her about Charing Cross Pier and the Island of Cythera—not failing to mention what lady had shared these revels with him.

  They discussed the problems of their honeymoon, and agreed that they would tell their mothers, but that nobody else was to share the secret until after the Bessie Budd had sailed. Irma made note of the name of the yacht. Was she the least bit inclined toward jealousy of it? “Lanny,” she asked, “are you sure it wouldn’t be better if we got one of our own?”

  It gave him a start. He could have a yacht if he wanted it! The biggest yacht in the world—enough to carry a dozen Red Sunday schools! But he said: “Let Johannes have the troubles. He has asked for them.”

  “Will I like those people, do you think?”

  “You’ll find them the easiest in the world to get along with; and, moreover, you won’t be under any obligations. Johannes considers that my father has paid him for life.”

  In after years Lanny would look back on a remark like that, and marvel anew at the strange fate of men, who can see when they turn their eyes toward the past, but are totally blind confronting the future. Bacon has said that he who marries and begets children gives hostages to fortune; and the saying surely applies to him who acquires friendships—especially if the year is 1929, and the place is Germany, and the friends are “non-Aryan”!

  The eloping pair talked about themselves, a subject of interest and importance to young people. “Oh, Lanny, I have been so unhappy!” the girl exclaimed. “I want somebody I can trust.”

  “You have him, dear.”

  “I am so ashamed of what happened in Italy!”

  “That’s ancient history—leave it to the bookstores.”

  “I’ll have to have time to get over the humiliation.”

  “Tell yourself that Ettore was a well-practiced lover, and carried you off your feet.”

  “That wasn’t all. I wanted to be something great and important. But I didn’t like those people. I didn’t like the place.”

  “What place do you think you would like?”

  “I think I’d like Juan the best of any I’ve ever been to.”

  “Well, that’s fine, because that’s the way I feel. There’s a lovely house there, waiting for us. Only you’ll have to get used to hearing people say that I built it for Rosemary.”

  “Lanny, I promise I’ll never be jealous of her.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about, because they’re going to keep her in the Argentine, I’m pretty sure!”

  IV

  They were driving along the Kentish coast, through a succession of small watering-places looking out over the sea. Chance brought them to a country inn which had some outdoor tables, and they sat under an arbor of vines and had cold mutton and beer—something of a come-down from the caviar and champagne in which Lanny had indulged himself in the wee hours of that morning. They drove again, and were on the Strait of Dover, where it was all one town with different names, and presently the name was Ramsgate, a popular “watering place.” In its little harbor, perhaps a quarter of a mile each way, the trim Bessie Budd, gleaming with several coats of new white paint, was in process of being laid against the side of the street.

  There were all six of the Robin family, standing by the rail as in a line-up. How delightful to see Lanny come along and park his car right beside the berth of the yacht! But who was that lovely brunette Juno, wearing a sports ensemble of brown worsted trimmed with white, and a little brown cap to match? Had he at last found himself a girl whom he liked enough to take about on his drives? When the yacht was close enough so that they could chat comfortably, Lanny said: “Let me introduce Irma Barnes. Irma, meet Mama and Papa Robin, and, reading from left to right, Hansi and Bess and Freddi and Rahel.” They all bowed and smiled, and politely covered their excitement at the magic name of the brunette Juno. They had a right to feel pleasure in meeting any friend of their darling Lanny. Of course, Hansi and Bess hadn’t failed to tell the story of the famous heiress, and how Lanny had been too haughty and had wooed her with too little ardor. By what magic was she now at his side?

  Obviously it was a story! Lanny took them into the saloon and closed the doors, and said: “Irma and I are trying to get married, and the English laws won’t let us. We don’t want a lot of fuss and newspaper talk, so will you let Captain Moeller take us out and marry us on the high seas?”

  Well, you could have knocked that family over with a feather—so the saying runs, but Lanny didn’t have any feather. Anglo-Saxon reticence was forgotten by all; Bess hugged and kissed her half-brother, she hugged and kissed Irma, and Mama began to sob with whatever it is that moves motherly souls at weddings. The young Jewish people all wrung the hands of the happy pair. Hansi was the first who had a wonderful thought, and exclaimed to the bride: “Oh, you will come with us on the cruise!” There followed a clamor of acclamation which left no doubt in the soul of an heiress that she was welcomed—and not entirely for her money, for, after all, Mr. Robin had his own, as this yacht proved.

  Johannes said: “I will see Moeller.” Captain Fritz Moeller was a gray-bearded officer who had commanded a great passenger liner before the war, and now was thankful for a’ chance to manage a pleasure yacht for a Jewish Schieber. Johannes had a talk with him and came back looking sorrowful. “Ach! Er kann es nicht. Verboten!”

  “What is the matter?” asked Lanny.

  “When he commanded a passenger vessel, yes. And before that, when he was captain of a merchant vessel. But for a private yacht, nein.”

  “He is sure?”

  “He says that you would not be married, and he would be deprived of his license.”

  Grief appeared on the faces of all the company. How very provoking, to ruin their delightful adventure! “Well, it looks as if we have to go back to the Archbishop!” said Lanny.

  “And all that publicity!” added Irma.

  “Is that what is troubling you?” inquired the owner of the Bessie Budd.

  “This kind of thing,” said Lanny, and took from his pocket the clipping from that morning’s Daily Mail. “There was a duca in Italy who thought that he was engaged to Irma; and now the papers bring it up, and write a lot of gossip.”

  “And my mother makes a fuss,” added the girl. “We thought that we could get it over with, and then she would make the best of it.”

  “Couldn’t we go to France?” inquired Bess.

  “It is no better there,” said Lanny. “They have the banns, and it takes ten days. Moreover, you have to have birth certificates. My mother and Mr. Dingle had to cable for them.”

  “How would it be in Holland?” persisted Bess.

  “Worse yet,” said Johannes. “It takes four weeks. Nowhere in Europe do they take getting married so lightly as in the States.”

  “It is very silly,” opined Irma. “If it suits us, why should anybody else be concerned?”

  Johannes looked at her. A very fine-looking girl, and he knew about her twenty-three million dollars. Lanny was too well bred to show it, but it seemed to Johannes that anybody who had a chance to marry her would be in a hurry. He could be sure that Lanny’s father would take it as a favor if he went to some trouble to bring off this match. “Well, if you are game, I’ll get you married tonight.”

  “How?” It was a chorus.

  “There are plenty of passenger an
d merchant vessels out there in the Strait of Dover. The sea is smooth, and it should be an easy matter to get one to stop if we pay them enough.”

  Young hearts leaped and young faces lighted up. “Oh, how charming!” exclaimed the would-be bride.

  “Are you game?”

  “Indeed I am!”

  “But,” objected Lanny, “would the master have a right to marry two people who aren’t passengers?”

  “You can be passengers. We’ll leave you on board.”

  “Where would we go?”

  “We’ll flag a vessel that is inward bound. You can be married before it enters the ten-mile zone, and the Archbishop of Canterbury can go hang.”

  They were young, they were rich and accustomed to having their own way; they were not too much burdened with a sense of their own dignity, or with respect for the laws and institutions of any nation. Mama Robin was the only one who was shocked by all this; the others were in a state of hilarity, so she held her peace. The bridegroom said: “Let me have a few minutes to get my car parked and send a couple of telegrams.”

  V

  Lanny darted onto shore. He had agreed with Irma upon two identical telegrams, one signed by her to her mother, and one signed by him to his: “Everything settled have gone to visit friends will write”—something which these ladies would understand, but no one else. That attended to, and the car placed in a garage, Lanny hurried back to the yacht, and it crept through the opening in the breakwater and headed eastward into the Strait of Dover.

  They stood in the stern and watched the sun set behind them, and Lanny talked about the exhibition and how it was going; the pair had collected themselves, and were Anglo-Saxon again. If they were to express their feelings, it could only be by the means of art. Presently the piano on rubber wheels was rolled onto the deck, and Hansi got his fiddle, and they listened to Scriabin’s Prelude, gently solemn, with very beautiful double-stopping—a performance for which an audience would have paid a large sum of money. Bess played the accompaniment, and Lanny saw that she was improving all the time, and told her so; he was proud of her, and of the match which he had helped to make. Now they were repaying him!