calls impropriety of conduct if you did it before, and
he'd probably interrupt you. He doesn't like that sort of thing. I
shouldn't like it myself either, and I don't think the judge would,
although he's evidently a liberal-minded man."

"I couldn't possibly do that," said Simpkins. "I've only spoken to her
three times."

"You'll have to," said Meldon, "after she's accepted you. It's the
usual thing. Miss King will be angry, quite rightly angry and
insulted, if you don't. You read any novel you like, and you'll find
that as soon as ever the hero has proposed to the heroine, often
without waiting for her answer, he rains passionate kisses on some part
of her, generally her hair. I don't ask you to go as far as that; but
one or two kisses--you can begin with her hand if you like, and work on
gradually."

"Of course I shall do nothing of the sort," said Simpkins. "I shall
simply explain to Miss King that owing to some sort of muddle--"

"If I were you, Simpkins, I shouldn't talk too much. From the gaspy
sort of way you're speaking now, I imagine you're not in particularly
good training, and you have a long ride before you. It will be most
unfortunate if, when I've planted you down in front of Miss King, you
are unable to do anything except pant. No girl would stand that. By
far the best plan for you is to breathe entirely through your nose, and
sit well back in your saddle, so that your chest and lungs are kept
properly expanded."

Simpkins spoke no more for some time. He may have considered the
advice good. He may have felt an increasing difficulty in talking when
riding very rapidly. When they reached Ballymoy there were signs of
unusual excitement in the street. Doyle and O'Donoghue were standing
on the steps of the hotel. A small crowd had gathered on the road in
front of them. Most of the shopkeepers were at the doors of their
shops. A considerable number of women were looking out of the upper
windows of the houses. A cheer arose as the two bicyclists passed
through the town. Meldon took off his hat and waved it.

"Musha, good luck to you," shouted a woman's voice.

"That," said Meldon, "is almost certainly Sabina Gallagher. She's
naturally greatly interested on account of her cousin."

"Interested in what?" gasped Simpkins.

"Your marriage," said Meldon. "I mentioned it to Doyle this morning,
and he has evidently told every one about the place."

Simpkins stopped abruptly and got o