"And whither will the happy pair betake themselves after the reception?" questioned Archie.
"That, my dear fellow, is not yet quite decided."
"I expect you'll go for a motor tour," said Bray.
But Rivington at once shook his head.
"Nothing of that sort. Couldn't afford it. No, we shall do something cheaper and more original than that. I've got an old caravan somewhere; that might do. Rather a bright idea, eh, Archie?"
"Depends on the bride," said Archie, looking decidedly dubious.
"Eh? Think so? We shall have to talk it over." The Poor Relation subsided into a chair, and stretched himself with a sigh. "There are such a lot of little things to be considered when you begin to get married," he murmured, as he pulled out his pipe.
"Some one wanting you on the telephone, sir," announced one of the club attendants at his elbow, a few minutes later.
"Eh? Who is it? Tell 'em I can't be bothered. No, don't. I'm coming."
Laboriously he hoisted himself out of his chair, regretfully he knocked the glowing tobacco out of his pipe, heavy-footed he betook him to the telephone.