the safe side, you'd better leave your clubs
behind."

"Perhaps I'd better," I said carelessly.

All the same I don't think I will. One never knows what may happen ...
and at the outset of one's matrimonial career to have to go to the
expense of an entirely new set of clubs would be a most regrettable
business.

IV.--SEASONABLE PRESENTS

"I suppose," I said, "it's too late to cancel this wedding now?"

"Well," said Celia, "the invitations are out, and the presents are
pouring in, and mother's just ordered the most melting dress for herself
that you ever saw. Besides, who's to live in the flat if we don't?"

"There's a good deal in what you say. Still, I am alarmed, seriously
alarmed. Look here." I drew out a printed slip and flourished it before
her.

"Not a writ? My poor Ronald!"

"Worse than that. This is the St. Miriam's bill of fare for weddings.
Celia, I had no idea marriage was so expensive. I thought one
rolled-gold ring would practically see it."

It was a formidable document. Starting with "full choir and organ" which
came to a million pounds, and working down through "boys' voices only,"
and "red carpet" to "policemen for controlling traffic--per policeman,
5s.," it included altogether some two dozen ways of disposing of my
savings.

"If we have the whole _menu_," I said, "I shall be ruined. You wouldn't
like to have a ruined husband."

Celia took the list and went through it carefully.

"I might say 'Season,'" I suggested, "or 'Press.'"

"Well, to begin with," said Celia, "we needn't have a full choir."

"Need we have an organ or a choir at all? In thanking people for their
kind presents you might add, 'By the way, do you sing?' Then we could
arrange to have all the warblers in the front. My best man or my
solicitor could give the note."

"Boys' voices only," decided Celia. "Then what about bells?"

"I should like some nice bells. If the price is 'per bell' we might give
an order for five good ones."

"Let's do without bells. You see, they don't begin to ring till we've
left the church, so they won't be any good to _us_."

This seemed to me an extraordinary line to take.

"My dear child," I remonstrated, "the whole thing is being got up not
for ourselves, but for our guests. We shall be much too preoccupied to
appreciate any of the good things we provide--the texture of the red
carpet or the quality of the singing. I dreamt last night that I quite
forgot about the wedding-ring till