The Argosy — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

100 Edina. “Of course they are,” assented Frank. “ Not that that makes it any worse or better.” “It makes it all the worse,” said Edina. “Were they experienced and capable, they might do something or other to earn a living.” A whole world of surprise shone in the candid blue eyes of Frank Raynor. ‘Earn a living!” he exclaimed. ‘Who would earn it?” “ All of them who are old enough,” said Edina. “Mrs. Raynor and Alice, to begin with.” “Surely you cannot think of such a thing for em, Edina!” “But how.else will they exist, Frank? Who will keep them? Charley will never be able to do it.” A blank pause. Frank, brought thus practically face to face with the position, was unable to answer. “I wish to goodness I could keep them!” he exclaimed at length “I wish I had a practice and a house over my head! They should al come to it.” “It has surprised me very much indeed, Frank—to go from the other subject for a moment—that you have not sought to establish yourself all this time.” “I was waiting for some money to do it with, Edina. Poor Uncle Francis was constantly expecting those lost funds to turn up. It seems they would have belonged to George Atkinson if they had come to light : but we could not have known that.” “Your Uncle Hugh blamed you for it, Frank. ‘ Better for him to take a situation as an assistant; than to fritter away his days at Eagles’ Nest,’ he used often to say.” Frank made no reply. The mention of his Uncle Hugh brought vividly to his mind that last ominous letter of warning he had received from him. With his usual incaution he spoke on the moment’s im- pulse. “Is Blase Pellet at Trennach still ?” Not quite immediately did Edina answer. Raising his eyes, he met hers fixed on him. And he saw something in their depths that he did. not like: an anxious, questioning, half-terrified expression. “‘ Edina knows about it,” thought he. And he turned as cold as the frost in winter. “Yes, Blase Pellet is there as usual,” she replied, averting her eyes. “ And Mrs. Bell has left Trennach for good and is gone to live at Falmouth.” Why, the very answer; that last sentence, added gratuitously; would of itself have been enough to betray her cognisance. Else why should she mentally have connected the Bells with Blase Pellet? Frank quitted the topic abruptly. Not until after the funeral—which took place, as was deemed expe- comicbooks.com