Fred and I had invitations to shooting not far off, just as my aunt went to stay a week at Mrs. Maria's and to see her girl. Our friends could accommodate Fred only, and sooner than be separated, and for other reasons, we wrote to the old curate to know if he could receive us two men,—and my aunt as well,—which he did. We took up our quarters there. I had unpacked, and went into Fred's room. "Here is a jolly cupboard," said he opening the door of one big enough for four people to stand in. "If a woman were sleeping here, she would always be thinking some one was hidden in it; it's a jolly place for boxes and clothes." He was hanging up something, when he stopped and listened. "Damned if there are not women laughing," said he, "hish!" But he heard nothing more.
Two or three minutes afterwa
