"I want," I said jauntily to a sexton or a sacristan or something—"I want—er—a wedding." And I added, "For two."
He didn't seem as nervous as I was. He enquired quite calmly when I wanted it.
"The eleventh of June," I said. "It's probably the one day in the year on which my Uncle Thomas—— However, that wouldn't interest you. The point is that it's the eleventh."
The clerk consulted his wedding-book. Then he made the surprising announcement that the only day he could offer me in June was the seventeenth. I was amazed.
"I am a very old customer," I said reproachfully. "I mean, I have often been to your church in my time. Surely——"
"We've weddings fixed on all the other days."
"Yes, yes, but you could persuade somebody to change his day, couldn't you? Or if he is very much set on being married on the eleventh you might recommend some other church to him. I daresay you know of some good ones. You see, Celia—my—that is, we're particularly keen, for some reason, on St. Miriam's."
The clerk didn't appreciate my suggestion. He insisted that the seventeenth was the only day.
"Then will you have the seventeenth?" he asked.
"My dear fellow, I can't possibly say off-hand," I protested. "I am not alone in this. I have a friend with me. I will go back and tell her what you say. She may decide to withdraw her offer altogether."