“I’ve seen him, dear.  It’s all right.  My word, I’ve had no end of a busy day.  The confounded fellow was out making calls on the congregation, as they say, and I had to pursue him from house to house, always missing him, by Jove.”

“But you did find him?” anxiously.

“Of course.  He will be at the church at nine to-night—­sharp.  He understands that no one is to know about it.  His fee is ten pounds—­ quite a bit for a chap like him.  I found him calling upon a fellow who is about to die—­a Mr. Grover.  He sent out word I’d have to wait as the old gentleman was passing away.  By Jove, do you know I was that intense that I sent in word that the old gentleman would have to wait a bit—­I couldn’t.  The pastor came out and—­well, it seems that the fee for helping a chap to get married is more substantial than what he gets for helping one to die.  And, as luck would have it, I found a fellow who will act as one of the witnesses to the ceremony at this same house,—­a Mr. Hooker, Anne.  He came down on the train with us.  Tall, dark, professional looking man.  He was sitting on Mr. Grover’s front steps when I got there.  The other witness—­must have two, you know—­is the head-waiter in the dining-room here—­”

“The—­head-waiter?” she gasped.

“He’s a very decent sort of chap, my dear—­and, besides, we can’t be choosers.  Waiters are most discreet fellows, too.  He’s to get two pounds for his trouble.  By Jove, I think I’ve done rather well.  I’m sorry if you don’t approve,” he lamented.

“But I do approve, Harry,” she cried bravely.  “It’s lovely!”

“Good!  I knew you would.  Now all we have to do is to slip away from here this evening, and—­Oh, I say, hang it all!  Mrs. Van Truder has asked me to dine with them this evening.”

“Isn’t she running you a bit?” cried Anne, indignantly.  “She had you for breakfast and luncheon and now it’s dinner.  I daresay she’ll have you for tea too.”

“But I’m not going to her confounded dinner.  That’s settled.  I can’t do it, you know, and be on time for the wedding.  Deuce take it, what does she take a fellow for?  Hello, here comes the chap that Dauntless introduced to us this morning.”  Derby was approaching with a warm and ingratiating smile.  “What’s his name?  Confound him.”

“Mr. Derby, I think.  Why can’t they give us a moment’s peace?” she pouted.  Derby came up to them, his eyes sparkling with a fire which they could not and were not to understand.  He had surveyed them from a distance for some time before deciding to ruthlessly, cruelly break in upon the tranquil situation.

“She’s a pretty girl,” he reflected, unconsciously going back to his college days, and quite forgetting his cloth—­which, by the way, was a neat blue serge with a tender stripe.  Consoling himself with the thought that he was doing it to accommodate an old friend, the good-looking Mr. Derby boldly entered the lists for the afternoon.  He felt, somehow, that he had it in his power to make Mr. Windomshire quite jealous—­and at the same time do nothing reprehensible.  What he did succeed in doing, alas, was to make two young people needlessly miserable for a whole afternoon—­bringing on grievous headaches and an attack of suppressed melancholia that savoured somewhat of actual madness.