"Well, now, supposing it's Susie—and, mind you, I'm not admitting it—you won't forbid the banns, I hope?"
"La, no! And I'll wager Mr. Addison won't, either," she tittered.
Plainly, here was an answer worth pondering. "You seem to be pretty full in the bar, to-night?" I observed, casually, to gain time; and, indeed, a hubbub of voices from across the archway smote on our ears through the double baize doors.
"The auctioneer is standing treat."
"Oh!—ah, yes—the auctioneer, to be sure," I murmured.
"The sale won't begin in the Long Room before six: he has half-an-hour for wetting their whistles. Seeming to me, you'll be lucky if you get Mr. Addison to attend to your business before it's over. But, perhaps," she added archly, "you'll like to have a word with Susie, to fill up the time? Shall I send her word that you are here? I dare say she'll find a chance to slip down to you; that is, if her mistress attends the auction."
"But will she?" I asked, doing my best to look wise.
She nodded sagely. "I shouldn't wonder. She'll want to look after the squire; he's more than half drunk already."
"It's plain you're a clever girl," I said; "but we'll let Susie wait for a while. And my business can wait on Mr. Addison. If his is an auction, mine is notoriously a lottery."