“She knew nothing about it,” said Joan, hastily; “and if you had written to her she would have thought that you were finding fault with her for not looking after me more. It’s done now, and if I’m satisfied and Captain Trimblett is satisfied, that is all that matters. You didn’t want me to be an old maid, did you?” Mr. Hartley gave up the subject in despair, but Miss Willett, who called a day or two later, displayed far more perseverance. After the usual congratulations she sat down to discuss the subject at length, and subjected Joan to a series of questions which the latter had much difficulty in evading. For a newly married woman, Miss Willett could only regard her knowledge of matrimony as hazy in the extreme. “She don’t want to talk about it,” said Mr. Truefitt, the following evening as he sat side by side with Miss Willett in the little summer-house overlooking the river. “Perhaps she is repenting it already.” “It ought to be a tender memory,” sighed Miss Willett. “I’m sure—” She broke off and blushed. “Yes?” said Mr. Truefitt, pinching her arm tenderly. “Never mind,” breathed Miss Willett. “I mean—I was only going to say that I don’t think the slightest detail would have escaped _me_. All she seems to remember is that it took place in a church.” “It must have been by license, I should think,” said Mr. Truefitt, scowling thoughtfully. “Ordinary license, I should say. I have been reading up about them lately. One never knows what may happen.” Miss Willett started. “Trimblett has not behaved well,” continued Mr. Truefitt, slowly, “by no means, but I must say that he has displayed a certain amount of dash; _he_ didn’t allow anything or anybody to come between him and matrimony. He just went and did it.” He passed his arm round Miss Willett’s waist and gazed reflectively across the river. “And I suppose we shall go on waiting all our lives,” he said at last. “We consider other people far too much.” Miss Willett shook her head. “Mother always keeps to her word,” she said, with an air of mournful pride. “Once she says anything she keeps to it. That’s her firmness. She won’t let me marry so long as Mrs. Chinnery stays here. We must be patient.” Mr. Truefitt rumpled his hair irritably and for some time sat silent. Then he leaned forward and, in a voice trembling with excitement, whispered in the lady’s ear. “_Peter_!” gasped Miss Willett, and drew back and eyed him in trembling horror. “Why not?” said Mr. Truefitt, with an effort to speak stoutly. “It’s our affair.” Miss Willett shivered and, withdrawing from his arm, edged away to the extreme end of the seat and averted her gaze. “It’s quite easy,” whispered the tempter. Miss Willett, still looking out at the door, affected not to hear.