And then the two young men marched up the staircase, and entered together the spare room.
"There!" exclaimed the retainer, as he finished laying out the contents of the guest's portmanteau. "Now all you have to do is to look sharp and get down into the drawing-room, before the arrival of the bishop. I shall try and snatch a few moments' doze, as I have been busy from the early morning."
"I really cannot sufficiently thank you," said the guest, hunting in his waistcoat pocket for a shilling. "But if you will allow me——"
"Oh, no thank you," interrupted the retainer, with a slight blush. "I really do not require a tip."
"But surely, from your multitudinous duties, you must be the butler?"
Then came the solution to the mystery.
"Oh dear no! I am not the butler! I am only the curate!"
A NEW SWAN SONG.
[Miss Annie Swan says—"What appears to be required is, that the wife should have something of her own, given to her freely by her husband for her own use and benefit, absolutely apart from other moneys, that she should spend it as she chooses.">[