I found my mother in the drawing-room with the remains of afternoon tea still spread on a small table before her. I had just time to notice that two people had been drinking tea and that the second cup, balanced precariously on the arm of a chair, was half full. Then my mother crossed the room rapidly and kissed me three times. She may have done such a thing before. I think it likely that she did when I was a baby. She certainly never kissed me more than once at a time since I was old enough to remember what she did. “I’m so delighted,” she said, “so very delighted. I can’t tell you how glad I am.” This remark, taken in connection with the kisses which preceded it, could only have one meaning. I realized at once that I actually was going to marry Lalage. I was not exactly surprised, but the news was so very important that I felt it right to make absolutely certain of its truth. “You’re quite sure, I suppose?” I said. “Lalage has been here with me. She has only just gone.” “Then we may regard it as settled.” “You silly boy! Haven’t you been settling it for the last hour?” “That’s exactly what I want to know. Have I? I mean to say, have we?” “Lalage seems to think you have.” “That’s all right then. She’d be sure to know.” “How can you talk like that when you’ve arranged everything down to the minutest details?” This startled me. I felt it necessary to ask for more information. “Would you mind recapitulating the details? I’m a little confused about them.” “You’re to wait till the Archdeacon is actually bishop,” said my mother, “and then he’s to marry you.” “Is that your plan or Lalage’s?” “Lalage’s, of course. I suppose it’s yours too.” “I’m sorry,” I said, “to find that Lalage is so vindictive. I hoped that she’d have been more ready to forgive and forget.” “I know what you’re thinking about, because Lalage told me. She doesn’t mean to be vindictive in the least. She seemed to think----” “Surely not that the Archdeacon will like it?” “Hardly that; but that under the circumstances his feelings would be hurt if any one else was asked to perform the ceremony.” “After all,” I said, “there’s still Miss Battersby. He can’t complain.” “She’s to be a bridesmaid. So is Hilda, of course.” “Selby-Harrison shall be best man,” I said. “Oh!” said my mother, “I gathered from Lalage that you were to ask----” “I know she doesn’t want me to get into touch with Selby-Harrison. I’ve been trying to make his acquaintance for years and she keeps on concealing him. But this time I’m determined. I’ll have Selby-Harrison or no one.” “I gathered from Lalage that she’d prefer----” “Very well,” I said, “I’ll have two best men. I don’t see why I shouldn’t. Who’s the other?” “Lalage mentioned a Mr. Tithers.”