understands the position. I'll try and see him this morning,
and," as a brilliant idea struck her, "your father shall perform the
ceremony. I never was married by a Bishop before. Won't it be jolly!"

"You surely can't seriously intend--" began Cecil.

"Yes, I do. Now don't be stupid, but run along and let me finish my
toilet." And she ran out of the room.

Banborough walked away in a maze. He had thought to straighten matters
out, and he had only got them into a far worse tangle. That Miss
Arminster had no conscientious scruples about adding another husband to
her quota was bad enough, but that his innocent, unsuspecting father
should be allowed to disgrace his cloth by solemnising such a marriage
was really more than he could stand. In his righteous wrath he
determined that the Bishop should know the whole truth, soothing his
conscience by the thought that if he did not tell him, Miss Matilda
would.

In the hall of the palace, however, he ran across Spotts, laden with the
implements of golf, and all unconscious of his impending fate.

"Look here, old man," said Cecil, "I want to have five minutes' chat
with you."

"I am quite at your service," replied his friend. "In fact I was just
coming to look you up myself. Now that the war's over, I must really be
thinking of going away, as I've imposed long enough already on your
hospitality."

"Oh, it isn't about that I want to see you," said Banborough. "It's
about your getting married."

"My getting married?" queried Spotts.

"Yes. It seems there's a lady who has matrimonial designs on you. I
thought it was only the part of a friend to warn you in due season."

"If it's your aunt," returned the actor, "I'm very much obliged. I think
I could manage to get packed up and leave by the afternoon train."

"No, no; it isn't so bad as that," said his host. "Or, rather, it's
worse. Miss Arminster has you under consideration."

"As a husband?"

"Yes. I think she means to marry you to-morrow or next day, and have my
father perform the ceremony."

"Oh, I see. And you've some feeling about it."

"Well, yes," admitted Cecil, "I'm afraid I have."

"I suppose you'd like to take my place?"

"No, it isn't that either. Yon don't seem to see the point. Miss
Arminster wants to marry _you_."

"Well, isn't that a question between Miss Arminster and myself?"

"Naturally. But then she's married pretty frequently, hasn't she? Of
course, if all her husbands are dead--"

"Oh,