The footman came to him.
"Where to, my lord--to Beechgrove ?" "No," replied Lord Arleigh--"to the railway station.

I want to catch the night-mail for London." Lord Arleigh was just in time for the train.

The footman caught a glimpse of his master's face as the train went off--it was white and rigid.
"Of all the weddings in this world, well, this is the queerest!" he exclaimed to himself.
When he reached Beechgrove, he told his fellow-servants what had happened, and many were the comments offered about the marriage that was yet no marriage--the wedding that was no wedding--the husband and wife who were so many miles apart.

What could it mean?
.