Mr. Polly's marriage followed with a certain inevitableness.

He tried to assure himself that he was acting upon his own forceful

initiative, but at the back of his mind was the completest realisation

of his powerlessness to resist the gigantic social forces he had set

in motion. He had got to marry under the will of society, even as in

times past it has been appointed for other sunny souls under the will

of society that they should be led out by serious and unavoidable

fellow-creatures and ceremoniously drowned or burnt or hung. He would

have preferred infinitely a more observant and less conspicuous rôle,

but the choice was no longer open to him. He did his best to play his

part, and he procured some particularly neat check trousers to do it

in. The rest of his costume, except for some bright yellow gloves, a

grey and blue mixture tie, and that the broad crape hat-band was

changed for a livelier piece of silk, were the things he had worn at

the funeral of his father. So nearly akin are human joy and sorrow.

The Larkins sisters had done wonders with grey sateen. The idea of

orange blossom and white veils had been abandoned reluctantly on

account of the expense of cabs. A novelette in which the heroine had

stood at the altar in "a modest going-away dress" had materially

assisted this decision. Miriam was frankly tearful, and so indeed was

Annie, but with laughter as well to carry it off. Mr. Polly heard

156

The History of Mr Polly