“I—­er—­by Jove, this is quite beyond me.  Found you out?  My word, you don’t mean to say—­”

“I say, old man,” said Dauntless, manfully, “let me explain.  We’ve always loved each other.  It isn’t that she—­”

“Hang it all, man, I knew that,” expostulated Windomshire.  “It was a mistake all around.  I love Anne, don’t you know.  There’s no real harm done, I’m sure.  But what puzzles me is this:  why does Miss Thursdale persist in pursuing us if she loves you and doesn’t care to marry me?”

“The deuce!  I like that,” cried Dauntless.  “You’d better begin by asking questions at home.”

“I take it,” interposed Mr. Derby, with rare tact and discernment, “that both of you expect to be married, but not to each other as originally planned.”  Both Eleanor and Windomshire signified eager affirmation in more ways than one.  “Then it seems to me a simple case of coincidence, which may be explained later on.  Why discuss it now?  I am in reality a minister, Miss Courtenay, and I am here to unite Miss Thursdale and Mr. Dauntless in the holy bonds of matrimony.  I trust we may expect no interference on the part of Mr. Windomshire?”

“Good Lord!  No!” almost shouted Windomshire, clasping Anne’s hand in a mighty grasp.  “That’s what we are here for ourselves—­to be married—­ but the damned parson has deceived us.”  Jim Carpenter came out of his trance at this.  “Say, are you the fellow Rev. Smith was to marry?  Well, he won’t be here.  There’s a surprise pound party at his house and the whole town is there.  He couldn’t leave to save his soul.  It’s the way he gets his living.”

“Oh, Anne!” cried Windomshire, in real despair.

Anne slipped into the breach with rare old English fortitude.  She addressed herself sweetly to Mr. Derby.

“Mr. Derby, do you remember saying this afternoon that you’d do anything in the world for me?” Mr. Derby blushed and looked most unworthy of his calling, but managed to say that he would do anything in the world for her.  “Then, please take the place of the minister who couldn’t come.”

“Good!” cried Dauntless, almost dancing.

“I will, Miss Courtenay,” said Derby.  Windomshire grasped him by the hand, speechless with joy and relief.

“I don’t understand all this,” complained Mr. Van Truder, vainly trying to see the excited, jubilant quartette.  He only knew that they were all talking at once, suddenly without restraint.  “I wish my wife were here; she’d understand.”

Jim Carpenter at last came to his senses and, dragging the head-waiter after him, sped to the rear of the church.  A few minutes later lights flashed in the windows and then the front door swung open.  Carpenter and Gustave stood smiling upon the threshold.

“Enter!” called out the former.  As the group quickly passed through the doorway, a long figure climbed down from the fence hard by and ventured up to the portal.  It was Mr. Hooker, his face the picture of bewilderment.