Wiggie saw the watchdogs spring up and leave the pew, to be checked at their first step by the Vicar’s wife, strongly suspicious that they had been sitting on her best Prayer-book; and as the stream from the chancel joined the human sea below, he seized the opportunity to escape from the adoring conductor, and steer his swimming head towards the vestry door. Here the Vicar had his word, but at last he was out on the step and in the air; and there he found Harriet. “Saw you bolt for the vestry,” she began, “so I came round outside, as I wanted to speak to you. I say, you _did_ do us all proud! Hefty sort of song, that hammer-yell--what? You must be stronger than you look, to put all that weft into it. By the way, there’s a couple of outsiders waiting at the lych-gate, asking for you. I suppose they didn’t see you bunk for the short cut. Look here! Will you play hockey for me, to-morrow?” He gazed at her with the patient surprise of one, half-crossed to the other world, surveying the caperings of those still firmly anchored to this. At that moment he could not have run from one tombstone to the next, and a hockey-ball, bounding down the path, would have taken to itself a dozen nebulous brethren under his reeling sight. Except in the case of her own employees, who were rigidly well looked after, Harriet, with her superb health, rarely troubled about other people’s, unless they were yellow with jaundice or pink with scarlet fever. And she had already decided what was the right treatment for Wiggie. “I haven’t played for years,” he hedged, “so I should be worse than useless. And I’m afraid I’ve--a--a very bad headache!” he added apologetically. “No wonder! The atmosphere in there was enough to lift the roof clean off its hinges. But your head will have gone by to-morrow, won’t it? As for being out of training, it doesn’t matter; at least, it _does_ matter, but it can’t be helped. You can always get in the way and let the ball hit you. Every little helps. It’s Dandy’s fault. She was one of the team, and now she and her folks are scuttling off to that Motor and Aero Show to-morrow. Don’t say you’re going with them, because you can’t. They’ll let you stop on by yourself, won’t they? You might help me out of a hole--especially as it’s Dandy’s hole. We’re up against a classy team, so I don’t want to be short. I ought to have a girl, of course, but I don’t suppose Witham will mind our playing a man extra, as it’s only you.”