I hope William likes it, for he brought it on himself. As soon as the sad event was announced to me I discussed the matter most seriously with Araminta. "A situation of unparalleled gravity has arisen," I said, "with regard to the wedding of William. It is going to be carried out at Whittlehampton in top-hats. Picture to yourself the scene. Waterloo Station full of lithe young athletes of either sex arrayed for sports on flood and field, carrying their golf-clubs, their diabolo spools and their butterfly nets, and there, in the midst of them, me with my miserable coat-tails, the June sun glaring on my burnished topper, and in my hands the silver asparagus-server or whatever it is that I am going to buy for William. I tell you it isn't done. They will come round and mock me. They will titter at me through their tennis-racquets." "Couldn't you wear a common or Homburg hat and carry your other in a hat-box?" she suggested in that bright helpful way they have. "Amongst the severe economic consequences of the recent great war," I replied coldly, "was, if you will take the trouble to remember, the total loss of my top-hat box." "Well, why not a white cardboard box, then?" "No power on earth shall induce me to stand on Waterloo Station platform dandling a white cardboard box," I cried. "Waterloo indeed! It would be my Austerlitz, my Jena. I should never dare to read the works of 'Man about Town' again. Besides, what about my morning-coat?" "Well, I could pin the tails of it up inside if you like. Or what about wearing an overcoat?" "Your first suggestion makes me despair of women's future position in the economic sphere. The second I would consider if I could settle the hat problem." And still thinking hard I rang up William. "I suppose you couldn't possibly cancel this wedding of yours?" I asked when I had explained the _impasse_. Self-centred as usual, he flatly declined. "Honestly, I don't see the difficulty at all," he went on. "I expect you'll look a bit of a mug anyhow, and probably there'll be lots of people on the platform dressed in morning-coats and top-hats." "Nobody leaves London on a Saturday morning wearing top-hats," I assured him, "nobody. If I were coming _in_ to London it would be quite a different matter. I might be an officer in the Guards, or M. KRASSIN proceeding to a deputation in Downing Street; but going out--no. Look here, why not make it a simple country wedding--sports coats and hayseed in the hair, and all that sort of thing?" "Spats and white vest-slips will be worn by all the more prominent guests," he replied firmly. "Well, hang it, have the thing in London, then," I implored, "and I'll promise to add the price of the return-fare to the cost of your wedding present." "The bride's parents reside at Whittlehampton, and the wedding will take place from the home of the bride," he answered.