ed Natalie. "Why, banns are publicly proclaimed in church!"

"They needn't be proclaimed in _your_ church, you goose," said Lady
Winwood. "And, even if they were, nobody would be the wiser. You may
trust implicitly, my dear, in the elocution of an English clergyman!"

"That's just what my friend said," cried Launce. "'Take a lodging near
a large parish church, in a remote part of London'--(this is my friend's
advice)--'go to the clerk, tell him you want to be married by banns, and
say you belong to that parish. As for the lady, in your place I should
simplify it. I should say she belonged to the parish too. Give an
address, and have some one there to answer questions. How is the
clerk to know? He isn't likely to be over-anxious about it--his fee is
eighteen-pence. The clerk makes his profit out of you, after you are
married. The same rule applies to the parson. He will have your names
supplied to him on a strip of paper, with dozens of other names; and he
will read them out all together in one inarticulate jumble in church.
You will stand at the altar when your time comes, with Brown and Jones,
Nokes and Styles, Jack and Gill. All that you will have to do is, to
take care that your young lady doesn't fall to Jack, and you to Gill,
by mistake--and there you are, married by banns.' My friend's opinion,
stated in his own words."

Natalie sighed, and wrung her hands in her lap. "We shall never get
through it," she said, despondingly.

Lady Winwood took a more cheerful view.

"I see nothing very formidable as yet, my dear. But we have still to
hear the end of it. You mentioned a condition just now, Mr. Linzie.

"I am coming to the condition, Lady Winwood. You naturally suppose, as
I did, that I put Natalie into a cab, and run away with her from the
church door?"

"Certainly. And I throw an old shoe after you for luck, and go home
again."

Launce shook his head ominously.

"Natalie must go home again as well as you!"

Lady Winwood started. "Is that the condition you mentioned just now?"
she asked.

"That is the condition. I may marry her without anything serious coming
of it. But, if I run away with her afterward, and if you are there,
aiding and abetting me, we are guilty of Abduction, and we may stand,
side by side, at the bar of the Old Bailey to answer for it!"

Natalie sprang to her feet in horror. Lady Winwood held up one finger
warningly, signing to her to let Launce go on.

"Natalie is not yet sixteen