Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

PLEDGING HIS WORD, 109 CHAPTER XIII. PLEDGING HIS WORD. How the next few days passed, Arthur never quite knew, but they did pass somehow, and on Thursday at four o’clock his hansum was standing at his door. It was a cold, bleak day, anda drenching rain was falling, turn- ing the gutters into small rivers and beating relentlessly upon the backs of the horses. But Arthur paid so little heed, even to the weather, that Peters had to run after him with his mackintosh. He heaved a sigh of relief as he handed his card to the butler and found himself ushered, once more, into the Clayton drawing-room. Dear old room, what an age it seemed since he had been in it last! How forcibly it reminded him of her! He could see her piano, with a pile of songs thrown carelessly upon it, through the open music-room door. He wondered what she was doing at that moment, and how she would act toward him. Before he had time to let his thoughts stray any further into the world of fancy, she entered from the hall with Bebee at her side. ‘‘VYou have come,’’ she said, in her low, even tones, answer tomy note. It was good of you. We have been wishing ever since, Bebee and I,’’ and her manner became a trifle strained, ‘‘to thank you properly for saving us both countless tears.’”’ ‘“You make toc much of a very insignificant service, ’’ he returned, courteously. She took aseat onasofa, where her profile stood out 66 in EGomichbooks (C(O) im