After lunch Graeme went back to the hotel, and found Pixley lolling on the seat outside, in a much more contented frame of mind than on his first arrival.

"You were right as to their lobsters, anyhow, Graeme," he said. "They\'re almost worth coming all the way for."

"All right. Now if you\'re rested we\'ll go for a stroll, and I\'ll set your mind at rest as to to-morrow. Then you\'ll be able to enjoy your dinner in a proper frame of mind."

"How far is it?"

"Just up there and round the corner. We\'ll see the Vicar first and you can try your hand on him."

The Vicar received them with jovial bonhomie.

"Ah-ha! The bridegroom cometh out of his chamber! And your friend? He is the best man—no?"

"He\'s not quite made up his mind yet, Vicar. Perhaps you can persuade him to it."

"But it is an honour—n\'est-ce pas? To attend so beautiful a bride to the altar—"

"Well, you see, the fact is—Mr. Pixley would have preferred reversing the positions. He would like to have been bridegroom and me to be best man."

"Ah—so! Well, it is not surprising—"

"Moreover, he would like to stop the wedding now if he could—"

"Ach, non! That is not possible," said the Vicar wrathfully, the southern blood blazing in his face. "What would you do, my good sir, and why?"

"Miss Brandt is my father\'s ............