The Argosy — page 279: what you’re looking at

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

Edina. 263 “Do you come here pretty often?” went on Daisy, coughing to conceal the spleen in her tone, which she was unable to suppress. **T shall have to come here oftener in future, I fear,” returned - Frank, not directly answering the question, of which she took note. Just for these few minutes, he had slackened his pace to hers, and they were walking side by side. ‘Iam glad she is near me: I don't think any stranger would give her the care that I shall give.” “You speak as though you were anxious for her!” resentfully cried Daisy. “I am more than anxious. I would give half I am worth to be able to cure her.” ° Well, I’m sure!” exclaimed Daisy. ‘One would think you and these people must hold some bond of union in common.” “‘ And so we do,” he answered. Perhaps the words were spoken incautiously. Daisy, looking quietly up at him, saw that he seemed lost in thought. “What is it?” she asked in a low tone: her breathing just then seeming to be a little difficult. “What is what?” “The bond of union between you and these Bells.” The plain question brought him out of his abstraction. He laughed lightly: laughed, as Daisy thought, and saw, to do away with the im- pression the words had made ; and answered carelessly : “ The bond between me and Dame Bell? Because I knew her at _ Trennach, Daisy, and learnt to respect her. She nursed me through a fever once.” “Oh,” said Daisy, turning her head away, indignant at what she believed was an evasion. The “bond,” if there was any, existed, not between him and the mother, but between him and the daughter. “T daresay you attend them for nothing !” “ Of course I do.” “What would Mr. Max Brown say to that?” “What he pleased. Max Brown is not a man to object, Daisy.” “You can't tell.” “Yes, I can. If he did, I should pay him the cost of the medicines. And my time, at least, I can give.” Daisy said no more. Swelling with resentment, with jealousy, she walked by his side in silence. Frank saw her to the surgery door, and then turned back, on the run. She went in; passed Sam, who: was leisurely dusting the counter, and sat down in the parlour by the fire. Her state of mind was not to be envied. Jealousy, you know, makes the food it feeds on. Mrs. Frank Raynor was making very dis- agreeable food for herself, indeed. She gave the reins to her imagina- tion, and it presented her with all kinds of suggestive horrors. The comichooks.com