There was only one thing to be done. The favourite in my competition (green, pink hoops) was disengaged for the moment. I went up to the man, took him by the arm, and dragged him away from his corner. He still held the plate in his hand, and I helped myself to a sandwich. "Must introduce you," I whispered in his ear. "Famous prize-winner." We pushed our way up to the lady. "Here he is," I said. And I looked round triumphantly for Beatrice. THE SIDESMAN (For the Third Day running) For what seemed weeks, but was the last two days, I'd pottered up and down that blessed baize-- Sorting out aunts in browns and aunts in greys. For what seemed always, but was only twice (Looking, if I may say so, rather nice), I'd lent a hand with hymn-sheets and with rice. Once more the dear old bells ring out; once more I linger, pink but anxious, at the door-- This is the third time. Here she comes! Oh, lor'! * * * * * * * Something on these occasions goes and thrills My fancy waistcoat at the first "I will's"; It can't be hopeless love--it must be chills. Something--a sinking feeling--round the heart Clutches me closely from the very start, And tells me I am fairly in the cart. Something.... And yet the fiercest unconcern So masks me that the vergers never learn How underneath my chest I yearn and yearn. * * * * * * * "_Wilt thou?_" And (there you are!) profoundly stirred, A gleam of hope strikes through me--wild, absurd ... "No luck!" I sigh. "He's on it like a bird." "_I, Edward John_"--and lonely at the back I wish my name were Edward; I could hack Myself that I was never christened Jack. "_I, Amabel_ (O Amabel!) _take thee_"-- I groan, and give profoundly at the knee: "There, but for someone else," I say, "goes Me." * * * * * * * Fair friends o' mine, what is it tries to shove My heart into my watch-chain, as above? It can't be hopeless chills, it must be love. Yet not for Amabel. No weight of care Clogs me as I pursue that happy pair Into the vestry and admire them there; Save this: I take the clergyman aside-- "Tell me," I whisper--"you're the third I've tried-- Do I, or do I not, embrace the bride?" AN AWKWARD CASE This is one of those really difficult cases (being the seventh of the quarter) where the editor of _The Perfect Lady_ simply has to ask his readers what _A._ should have done. The sort of reply that will be given is; "_A._ should have carried it off easily." Remarks like that are unhesitatingly included among the "_Answers adjudged idiotic._"