"Georgie"
which was so necessary to my plans for Georgie's deliverance. Luck, however, favored me, for when Drusilla had gone upstairs I caught Anne, the bridesmaid, quickly following her, and drew her into the vicar's study for one minute.
"Anne," I said gravely, "I must have a few words with you before we go."
She stared at me in amazement, and I drew her to the window. The Goddess Girl was blooming on the lawn in her flounced dress, pink as a horse-chestnut blossom, her head agleam, like the horse-chestnut itself, peeping from the green, prickly shell of a chiffon picture hat. Georgie was at her side, talking earnestly. A pretty pair.
"Look," said I softly, and Anne looked. Then she turned to me with wondering, speculative eyes.
"Now look over there," I said, "at Muggeridge."
My groomsman was eating ices under the old pear tree—a picture of stout and smiling complacency.
56
