"But I don't want to go to the church," she protested. "It's sure to be all dusty and stuffy, and there'll be some horrid old man who'll want to crawl round with us and point out Cardinal Wolsey. Let's go and sit in the wood somewhere, and just talk." Leslie shook his head. "No, Nancy," he said sternly. "I can't encourage such deception. Come along to the church." Nancy sighed. "Oh, dear," she murmured, "that's the worst of loving a man with a chin like yours. I shouldn't be half so frightened of you if you had a beard, George. Will you grow one to please me when we're married?" "You shall have whiskers if you want them," said Leslie tenderly. Nancy laughed, and, withdrawing her arm, stopped to pick two or three flowers that were nestling in the hedgerow. "There you are," she said, putting them in his buttonhole. Then she turned up her face. "You may kiss me now if you like." Leslie put his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her very gently. Nancy patted his sleeve. "You dear, obstinate old thing!" she said. "I believe you like me rather, after all." "I do a little," said Leslie quietly. Walking side by side, they came out on to the bend of the hill that leads down into Beechwood village. The small hamlet with its thatched cottages lay spread out below them in the warm July sunshine. "What a sweet place, isn't it?" said Nancy. "There's the church." She pointed down to a little square tower, half hidden amongst the trees. "And, oh, look!" she added. "There's someone outside with a motor-car. I suppose he's come to see Cardinal Wolsey too." Leslie said nothing. He was busy flicking away some dust from his coat with his handkerchief. "He's left the car and gone inside," went on Nancy. "What fun! Let's steal it, George, and go for a ride!" "I don't think we'd better," said Leslie. "He might be the bishop inspecting." Nancy shook her head. "Bishops never inspect," she said decidedly. "They sit at home and swear at the Government. I know, because my uncle's one." "Well, we'll go inside too, and see what he's doing," said Leslie. "Perhaps he's breaking open the poor-box." They turned in under the old wooden gateway and walked up the churchyard path. The door of the porch was open, and as they entered Leslie closed it behind them. At that moment the organ broke softly into music. Nancy slipped her arm into her companion's. "Oh, dear!" she whispered. "I believe there's a service on." As she spoke an elderly clergyman in a surplice came out suddenly from a side door in the chancel. He walked slowly to the steps, and stood there with a book in his hand looking down the aisle towards them. "It's our wedding service," said Leslie simply.