But, to repeat, he was sorely disappointed. Instead of beaming upon an assemblage of the elect, he found himself confronted by a company that caused him to question his own good taste in shaving especially for the occasion and in wearing gold-rimmed nose-glasses instead of the "over the ears" he usually wore when in haste. He saw, with shocked and incredulous eyes, sparsely planted about the dim church as if separated by the order of one who realized that closer contact would result in something worse than passive antagonism, a strange and motley company. For a moment he trembled. Had he, by some horrible mischance, set two weddings for the same hour? He cudgelled his brain as he peeped through the vestry door. A sickening blank! He could recall no other ceremony for that particular hour,--and yet as he struggled for a solution the conviction became stronger that he had committed a most egregious error. Then and there, in a perspiring panic, he solemnly resolved to give these weddings a little more thought. He had been getting a bit slack,--really quite haphazard in checking off the daily grist. What was he to do when the noble English pair and their friends put in an appearance? Despite the fact that the young American sailor-chap who came to see him about the service had casually remarked that it was to be a most informal affair,--with "no trimmings" or something like that,--he knew that so far as these people were concerned, simplicity was merely comparative. Doubtless, the young couple, affecting simplicity, would appear without coronets; the guests probably would saunter in and, in a rather dégagé fashion, find seats for themselves without deigning to notice the obsequious verger in attendance. And here was the church partially filled,--certainly the best seats were taken,--by a most unseemly lot of people! What was to be done about it? He looked anxiously about for the sexton. Then he glanced at his watch. Ten minutes to spare. Some one tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to face the stalwart young naval officer. A tall young man was standing at some distance behind the officer, clumsily drawing on a pair of pearl grey gloves. He wore a monocle. The good pastor's look of distress deepened. "Good afternoon," said the smiling lieutenant. "You see I got him here on time, sir." "Yes, yes," murmured the pastor. "Ha-ha! Ha-ha!" He laughed in his customary way. Not one but a thousand "best men" had spoken those very words to him before. The remark called for a laugh. It had become a habit. "Is everybody here?" inquired Aylesworth, peeping over his shoulder through the crack in the door. The pastor bethought himself and gently closed the door, whereupon the best man promptly opened it again and resumed his stealthy scrutiny of the dim edifice. "I can't fasten this beastly thing, Aylesworth," said the tall young man in the background. "Would you mind seeing what you can do with the bally thing?"