“Oh, no! He seemed rather bucked, really, to hear that—well, that we were so far on in our plans. Anglesey, you know, and so on,” said the Governor, in an expressionless voice as I turned quickly away. For I’d caught the heralding whiff of a cigar round the corner! Also, I wanted to be safely in my own room, getting ready for church, just at the time that those two men would be setting out for the links. My employer took one step after me. “This evening, then?—I mean, for what I was going to say to you.” Ah. That interrupted apology weighed on his mind. “Very well,” I said. “Good-bye.” And I drew a breath of relief to think of the whole blessed Day of Rest before me. * * * * * Even Church, however, wasn’t without its slight reminder of the situation. I was feeling rested, soothed, lulled—and, I am afraid, not strictly attentive—when my attention was caught, first by Theo’s moist palm being thrust into mine, much as Cariad thrusts his nose, and then by a phrase in the voice of the officiating curate: “_I publish the banns of marriage between_——” Banns, of course! Of course they must needs publish banns on this particular Sunday and in this particular church! thought I, rather pettishly. Well, I supposed it wasn’t really the Governor’s fault! and that there _are_ banns read every week! The next words I heard were: “_Also of Leonard Harris, bachelor_—” Ah! I knew his name; it was the young man from the Waters’ butcher, who, as I had already been told, was to marry the prettiest of the maids at The Lawn, the one who was sweeping the stairs this morning. —“_and Ethel Mary Bell, spinster, both of this parish._” Both absurdly happy, probably, in a “Smithie” kind of way. I wondered if “he” were red and greasy, like so many butchers? Whether he’d leave “her” at home while he went and sat all the evening in the “Spotted Dog”? My young man—I suppose to some people the Governor _would_ be my “young man”—isn’t that sort. Not that it need make the slightest difference to _me_ if he were! I needn’t worry about the sort of husband he’ll make—to someone else. “_Also between_——” What a lot of engaged couples! Six, at least, were “called” to-day. And I wondered about each of those six engaged girls.... Which of them had bloomed out into what books call “_this strange new happiness that had come to her_” on HIS account, and which of them just wanted to be “engaged” for its own sake?