Geoffrey's Victory by Mrs Georgie Sheldon — page 67: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

‘SD yy ba OT Pes Oe | MARGERY. Sh ees EM Ee rd On his way thither he passed a flower- ant bebtid : which there sat a woman who appeared to be about fifty years of age. She was an unusually tidy and respectable lcoking per- son to be a street vender of flowers, and she had a rare and choice collection for that season of the year, aud they were arranged in a realiy artistic manner. It was this arrangement which attracted Everet Maple- son’s attention, for he was a great admirer of flowers, — and was rarely seen anywhere without some bud or spray in his button-hole. He had worn heliotrope to-day during his ¢all, but it was wilted and discolored, and he paused now before the stand to replace it with something else. He selected one exquisite rosebud nestling between its dark green leaves, and taking out a piece of silver, pe tossed it over the vases into the woman’s lap, and then would have passed on without waiting for his change, but ee. tha. she had put out her hand to detain him. | She had given a start of surprise and uttered a low ery the moment he had stopped before her, but he had not noticed it, and she had not taken her eyes from: his face during all the time that he was making his selection. As she looked she began~to tremble, her lips quivered, her eyes filled with tears, and she breathed with diffi- culiy, as if overcome with some poweriul emotion, Her face was wrinkled and sad, showing that she must ey have passed through some terrible grief. Herhair was very gray, and there was a white seam or scar above her right temple, the mark of an injury received years before. “Oh,” she cried, putting out her kand to detain him as © he was turning away. “Oh, Geofirey, have you forgotien — Margery ?” Everet stopped short, looked back, and attentiveiy | svanned the woman’s face. “*Margery !’” he repeated. “I never knew anybody of that name, and mine isn’t Geofirey, either, my wonian,” he said, somewhat brusquely, for it nettled him when- ever he heard that name, which he had grown to dishke- so much. “Surely my eves can’t deceive nie,” returned the flower- vender, earnestly. “I could never forget the deer boy that I nursed and tended during the first five years of his | life. Can’t you remember me, decrie? Have you fcrget- ten the chickens end the rabbits—old Chuck, the dog, and the two little white kittens. Al! try to think, Master oO com ebooks: co