said the Baron; and Geoffrey would have been quite happy if an earthquake had come and altered all plans for the morning. Still he went through the form of clinking goblets. But his heart ached, and his eyes grew hot as he sat dismal and lonely away from his girl.
"Whom shall we ask to the wedding?" queried the Rev. Hucbald, rubbing his hands and looking at the pitcher in which Sir Godfrey had mixed the beverage.
"Ask the whole county," said Sir Godfrey. "The more the merrier. My boy Roland will be here to-morrow. He'll find his sister has got ahead of him. Have some," he added, holding the pitcher to the Rev. Hucbald.
"I do believe I will take just a little sip," returned the divine. "Thanks! ah most, delicious, Baron! A marriage on Christmas Day," he added, "is—ahem!—highly irregular. But under the unusual, indeed the truly remarkable, circumstances, I make no doubt that the Pope"
"Drat him!" said Sir Godfrey; at which the Chaplain smiled reproachfully, and shook a long
