"My dear sir, you may take my word for it, I did not. I shouldn't think of such a thing. Let me assure you on the honour of my sacred office, that Lady Isabelle is not, and cannot be married to Lieutenant Kingsland." "Ah, then Kingsland _is_ married." The parson caught his breath in his relief at the escape from the dreaded question, which he had supposed was inevitable. He had been too confidential. "I did not say so, sir," he replied with dignity. "Quite true, Mr. Lambert, you did not say so," persisted his tormentor, opening the door, "and so I suppose you'd prefer not to have me ask if you married Miss Fitzgerald to Lieutenant Kingsland?" "I would certainly prefer not to answer that question, and now I must really go upstairs;" and without waiting for further parley, the little man scuttled out of the room. Stanley was preparing to follow him at his leisure, when the door opened, and Kent-Lauriston entered. "Kent-Lauriston!" he exclaimed. "You're the very man I want! I must speak with you!" "I know it," replied his friend, "but not before I've had my smoke." "But this matter admits of no delay." "Oh yes, it does. That's one of the fallacies of modern civilisation. Every important question _admits_ of delay, and most matters are all the better for it." "But I've seen the register!" "Of course you have, but you haven't seen a deduction that is as plain as the nose on your face, or you wouldn't now be trying to ruin my digestion. I'll meet you here at ten o'clock this evening and then, and not an instant sooner, will I discuss your private affairs." "You English are so irritatingly slow!" "My dear fellow, we've made our history--you're making yours. You can't afford to miss a few days; we can easily spare a few centuries. Now be a good boy, and leave me to peace and tobacco. Join the ladies, and pay a little attention to one of your _fiancées_." So it was that Stanley found himself relegated to the drawing-room, and feeling decidedly upset, he good-naturedly determined to see what he could do towards upsetting the equanimity of the rest of the party. In this, however, he was partially forestalled by the good parson, who had not been wasting the few minutes of grace, which the Secretary's conversation with Kent-Lauriston had allotted to him. No sooner had Mr. Lambert entered the drawing-room, than he sought out Miss Fitzgerald, and confided to her an astonishing discovery he had made in the church register. "Most careless of me, I assure you," he apologised. "I should have noticed of course--people often make nervous mistakes at times like those; but it was not till this morning that I discovered that Lady Isabelle had written her name in the space reserved for the bride, and you in the space reserved for the witness." "Well?" asked Miss Fitzgerald, her voice ringing hard and cold as steel.