at," he said, taking out his cigar, and
stretching his feet to the top of the balustrade; "I don't know about
that. I am afraid it might be the ruin of me. I might become awfully
pious, and then what a stick and a moping man of rags I should become. I
tell you, Charlie, my boy, there's many a good fellow spoilt by too
much church and Sunday school."

"Perhaps," I replied, "but you and I are beyond danger."

"Well, yes, but you can't be too careful of yourself, you know."

There was no answering that, and we relapsed into commonplace, and
finished our cigars.

"Where's old Dives to-day, and his charming niece, the lively Van?"
asked Fred, after an uncommon fit of silent contemplation.

"They went over to some town thirty or forty miles away, yesterday, and
haven't got back," I replied.

"I tell you, that girl knows how to circumvent these stupid Sundays,
don't she, though? And she takes old Dives along wherever she wants to
go. I believe she would take him where the other Dives went, if she was
disposed to take a trip there herself. But, holy Jerusalem! what are we
to do to get through the rest of the day. No company, no billiards, no
fishing. Confound the prejudices of society. I tell you, it is just such
women as that mother-in-law of yours that keep society intimidated, as
it were, into artificial proprieties. Now where's the harm of a pleasant
game on a Sunday, more than sitting here and grumbling and cursing
because there's nothing to do?"

I made no reply, and Fred lighted another cigar. He was evidently
thinking of something. "Look here, old fellow," he said at length in an
undertone, something very unusual with him, "come up to my room. You
haven't seen it. Lib won't be back till teatime, and perhaps we can find
something to amuse ourselves."

He led the way and I followed, thinking no harm. His room was up stairs
and on the back of the house, looking up the great hill that stretched
back to the clouds. As we entered, I found he had brought a good many
things with him, and given the room much the air of the quarters of a
bachelor in the city. His sleeping-room was separate from that, and
formed a sort of boudoir for his wife. He motioned me to an easy-chair,
set a box of fine cigars on the table, and going to the closet brought
out a decanter of sherry and some glasses.

"In these cursed places, you can get nothing to drink," he said,
"unless on the sly, and I hate that; so I bring along my own beverage