"Well," said I, "if it's all the same to you, I'll stay where I am. To tell the truth, my dear, I've come to see Mr. Addison about putting up my banns: and that's a delicate matter, eh!" Upon this she began to eye me more favourably, as I expected. There's an _esprit de corps_ among women--or an _esprit de sexe_, if you will--which softens them towards the marrying man. Surrender to one, surrender to all. "But you don't belong to Welland parish," said she. "Quite right. It takes two to make a wedding, and the young woman belongs to Welland." "Who is she?" "Aha!" I winked at her knowingly. "I come from Welland parish myself," she went on, her curiosity fairly piqued. "Then if you happen to be going home to church next Sunday keep your ears open after the second lesson." She tossed her chin and went off on her errand, but returning in three minutes with the grog, must needs have another try. "I reckon it's Susie Martin," she declared, and nodded at me with conviction in her eye. "Well, now, supposing it's Susie--and, mind you, I'm not admitting it--you won't forbid the banns, I hope?" "La, no! And I'll wager Mr. Addison won't, either," she tittered. Plainly, here was an answer worth pondering. "You seem to be pretty full in the bar, to-night?" I observed, casually, to gain time; and, indeed, a hubbub of voices from across the archway smote on our ears through the double baize doors. "The auctioneer is standing treat." "Oh!--ah, yes--the auctioneer, to be sure," I murmured. "The sale won't begin in the Long Room before six: he has half-an-hour for wetting their whistles. Seeming to me, you'll be lucky if you get Mr. Addison to attend to _your_ business before it's over. But, perhaps," she added archly, "you'll like to have a word with Susie, to fill up the time? Shall I send her word that you are here? I dare say she'll find a chance to slip down to you; that is, if her mistress attends the auction." "But will she?" I asked, doing my best to look wise. She nodded sagely. "I shouldn't wonder. She'll want to look after the squire; he's more than half drunk already." "It's plain you're a clever girl," I said; "but we'll let Susie wait for a while. And my business can wait on Mr. Addison. If his is an auction, mine is notoriously a lottery." "There's one thing to console you," she answered smartly and (in the light of later knowledge I am bound to add) wittily; "you aren't drawing a blank." And with this shaft she left me.