"Who is he?"
"I don't know, sir. He did not give any name."
"Some shy young man who wants to get married, I expect," was the thought that passed through Mr. Seccombe's mind.
"Show him in," he said, after a pause. And a moment or two later a pale-faced young man came shyly and hesitatingly into the room. He carried a cloth cap in his hand, and was dressed in a badly fitting suit of tweed.
Mr. Seccombe looked at him for a moment inquiringly. He thought he knew, by sight, nearly everybody in the parish, but he was not sure that he had seen this young man before.
"Will you take a seat?" he said, anxious to put the young man at his ease; for he was still convinced that this was a timid bachelor, who wanted to make arrangements for getting married.
"I would prefer to stand, if you don't mind," he answered, toying nervously with his cap.
"As you will," the vicar said, with a smile. "I presume you are about to take to yourself a wife?"
"Me? Oh dear, no. I've something else to think of."
"I beg your pardon," the vicar said, feeling a little confused. "I thought, perhaps——"