Mr. and Mrs. Reginald Byng, seated at a table in the corner of theRegent Grill-Room, gazed fondly into each other's eyes. George,seated at the same table, but feeling many miles away, watched themmoodily, fighting to hold off a depression which, cured for a whileby the exhilaration of the ride in Reggie's racing-car (it hadbeaten its previous record for the trip to London by nearly twentyminutes), now threatened to return. The gay scene, the ecstasy ofReggie, the more restrained but equally manifest happiness of hisbride--these things induced melancholy in George. He had not wishedto attend the wedding-lunch, but the happy pair seemed to berevolted at the idea that he should stroll off and get a bite toeat somewhere else.

　　"Stick by us, laddie," Reggie had said pleadingly, "for there ismuch to discuss, and we need the counsel of a man of the world. Weare married all right--""Though it didn't seem legal in that little registrar's office,"put in Alice.

　　"--But that, as the blighters say in books, is but a beginning, notan end. We have now to think out the most tactful way of lettingthe news seep through, as it were, to the mater.""And Lord Marshmoreton," said Alice. "Don't forget he has lost hissecretary.""And Lord Marshmoreton," amended Reggie. "And about a million otherpeople who'll be most frightfully peeved at my doing the WeddingGlide without consulting them. Stick by us, old top. Join oursimple meal. And over the old coronas we will discuss many things."The arrival of a waiter with dishes broke up the silent communionbetween husband and wife, and lowered Reggie to a more earthlyplane. He refilled the glasses from the stout bottle that nestledin the ice-bucket--(" Only this one, dear!" murmured the bride ina warning undertone, and "All right darling!" replied the dutifulgroom)--and raised his own to his lips.

　　"Cheerio! Here's to us all! Maddest, merriest day of all the gladNew year and so forth. And now," he continued, becoming sternlypractical, "about the good old sequel and aftermath, so to speak,of this little binge of ours. What's to be done. You're a brainysort of feller, Bevan, old man, and we look to you for suggestions.

　　How would you set about breaking the news to mother?""Write her a letter," said George.

　　Reggie was profoundly impressed.

　　"Didn't I tell you he would have some devilish shrewd scheme?" hesaid enthusiastically to Alice. "Write her a letter! What could bebetter? Poetry, by Gad!" His face clouded. "But what would you sayin it? That's a pretty knotty point.""Not at all. Be perfectly frank and straightforward. Say you aresorry to go against her wishes--""Wishes," murmured Reggie, scribbling industrially on the back ofthe marriage licence.

　　"--But you know that all she wants is your happiness--"Reggie looked doubtful.