"He's left the car and gone inside," went on Nancy. "What fun! Let's steal it, George, and go for a ride!"
"I don't think we'd better," said Leslie. "He might be the bishop inspecting."
Nancy shook her head.
"Bishops never inspect," she said decidedly. "They sit at home and swear at the Government. I know, because my uncle's one."
"Well, we'll go inside too, and see what he's doing," said Leslie. "Perhaps he's breaking open the poor-box."
They turned in under the old wooden gateway and walked up the churchyard path. The door of the porch was open, and as they entered Leslie closed it behind them. At that moment the organ broke softly into music.
Nancy slipped her arm into her companion's.
"Oh, dear!" she whispered. "I believe there's a service on."
As she spoke an elderly clergyman in a surplice came out suddenly from a side door in the chancel. He walked slowly to the steps, and stood there with a book in his hand looking down the aisle towards them.
"It's our wedding service," said Leslie simply.