The Argosy — page 223: what you’re looking at

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

How it Happened. 209 “‘T am very sorry about the money you have lost. I hope it will be found ; but I have five hundred pounds of my own, and I want you very much to borrow this from me, until you get back your pocket- book. It will pay half of what you owe to the bank. “Yours sincerely, FRANCES PERRIN.” ‘* Perhaps I ought to say, ‘if I get better,’” my poor little patient said, slowly, when I had finished writing. My voice grew husky as I kissed her, and murmured, “ We will leave it as it is.” “ Then you think I may send this note ?” she whispered. “Why not?” I replied. I felt as if Heaven were about to aid me in my purpose of administering consolation to Louis Carter, when I held this innocent and childish missive in my hand. “ This letter will please the receiver much,” I added. ‘John shall take it to him as soon as he returns home.” Now that Frances had her mind relieved for the moment she closed her eyes again, and really fell asleep this time, leaving me free to go downstairs. When my husband came in he only waited to swallow a cup of tea before he set out on his new errand. He reappeared much sooner than I had expected. He was drenched with rain, and much fatigued, from wrestling with the storm now raging out of doors. His anxious face betrayed at once that he had no good news to tell. I took two jetters out of his hand with an inquiring look. “ Read,” he said, pointing to one, the envelope of which had been opened. The other cover contained, as I saw, the note I had so lately penned. I drew forth a sheet of paper, and as I did so an enclosure fell upon the ground at my feet. John picked it up, and held before me the long-lost photograph, which I had so perplexed myself about. { read -— “ Dear Friend,—I am leaving this place for ever, and as it is not likely that we shall ever meet again in this world, I write to bid you and Mrs. Grey farewell. The enclosed photograph is for her. I took it off her drawing-room table, some months ago, when I cherished vain hopes of being able to win the original for my wife. ‘“‘T constrain myself now to restore this treasure, as I have thought that it was perhaps this small dishonesty which has been the cause of my late affliction—which has brought upon me the imputation of the great crime, of which all must suspect me. The loss of this money has broken my heart. “ Ever yours faithfully, even to death, * Louis CARTER.” “This was to have been brought to me to-morrow,” my | husband said, ‘“ Carter left early this evening on foot.” VOL. XXII. comicBootes.comt