scent himself with tobacco. He had cut himself in shaving, and his
nose was peeling from a hot day on the cricket-field. What a silly
thing to expose his nose to the sun before his wedding! Perhaps when
Maude saw it she would--well, she could hardly break it off, but at
least she might be ashamed of him. He worked himself into a fever
over that unfortunate nose.

'You are off colour, Crosse,' said his best man.

'I was just thinking that my nose was. It's very kind of you to come
and stand by me.'

'That's all right. We shall see it through together.'

Hale was a despondent man, though the most loyal of friends, and he
spoke in a despondent way. His gloomy manner, the London drizzle,
and the nervousness proper to the occasion, were all combining to
make Frank more and more wretched. Fortunately Jack Selby burst like
a gleam of sunshine into the room. The sight of his fresh-coloured
smiling face--or it may have been some reminder of Maude which he
found in it--brought consolation to the bridegroom.

'How are you, Crosse? How do, Hale? Excuse my country manners! The
old Christmas-tree in the hall wanted to send for you, but I knew
your number. You're looking rather green about the gills, old chap.'

'I feel a little chippy to-day.'

'That's the worst of these cheap champagnes. Late hours are bad for
the young. Have a whisky and soda with me. No? Hale, you must buck