icrous, standing there in a bathing suit, discussing the
matter under the gaze of three pairs of outraged female eyes, and a
blazing sun.

"But, my good sir," said the old gentleman, "I have taken this
cottage--it is Sandybank Cottage, is it not?" he asked.

"It is."

"Mr. Joseph Scorer's?"

"Yes."

[Illustration: "A PARTY OF THREE OLD MAIDEN LADIES, WITH THREE DOGS AND
TWO CANARIES."]

I was getting angry and the sun was blistering my neck.

"Well, I have taken it for four weeks from August 13, and have paid a
deposit on it."

"And I have taken it for four weeks from August 12, and have paid a
deposit and half the rent," I said. "We came in yesterday, and we go out
September 9."

"And you have an agreement with Mr. Scorer?"

"Certainly I have, but I have not got it on me."

"Well, I'll be hanged," said the old gentleman, very red in the face,
and turned to his women folk.

"My dears, there is evidently some mistake. An infernal nuisance, but
this gentleman is evidently not to blame. Would you mind my seeing your
agreement?" he asked, turning again to me.

"Certainly I would mind. My agreement has nothing to do with you, sir,
and I am not in the habit of having my word doubted. Now perhaps you
will permit me to go in and dress, before my neck is absolutely raw."

They hung around for a time, talking unpleasantly among themselves, and
finally the old gentleman stalked off to the town, and came back with a
cart for their belongings. They were loaded up, and the party
disappeared in a cloud of dust on the way to Eastnor.

"That is rather a curious thing," said my wife, when I detailed the
experiences of the morning to her on her return from her shopping. "I
hope--"

"Oh, we're all right," I said, lightly. "They can't put us out.
Possession, you know--"

"Yes, I know. I wasn't thinking of that," she said, with a far-away look
in her eyes.

By evening the raw edge of the annoyance of the morning had worn off. We
sat in the porch enjoying the evening breeze, and counted ourselves for
the time being among the fortunate ones of the earth. Our charity even
extended at odd moments to the disappointed would-be occupants of our
shoes--and bedrooms, and we devoutly hoped they had found rooms
somewhere, and were not occupying airy apartments in bathing machines.

"It was a stupid mistake of Mr. Joseph Scorer's," we said, "and he ought
to be more careful."

"I shall write when I have time," I said, "and tel