The Argosy — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

Edina, 83 this year, I have come to ask you, Major Raynor, what portion you intend to bestow upon your daughter.” “Not any,” replied the plain-speaking Major. “I have none to bestow.” Sir Philip looked at him blankly. He appeared not to understand. “My will is good, Sir Philip. I'd give a. portion to Alice heartily if I had it to give. Thousands, I’m sure, the young people should be welcome to, if they needed it.” “Do you mean to say that you—that you will not bestow any por- tion whatever upon your daughter when she marries?” asked Sir Philip, in a tone of cold astonishment. “I'm sorry that I can’t do it,” said the Major. “I wish I could.” ““Then, I am afraid, I—cannot say what I had come to say,” returned Sir Philip with the air of a man who deliberates aloud. ‘‘I could not advise my son to settle upon the few hundreds a year that make up his present income.” “Why, it’s plenty,” cried the candid Major. “You have just said yourself that young people cannot expect to begin as they will end. Your son’s is a rising income: if he makes seven hundred this year, he may expect to make ten next, and double the seven the year after. It is ample to begin upon, Sir Philip.” “No,” dissented Sir Philip. ‘‘ Neither he nor I would consider it so. Something should be put by for a rainy day. This communication has completely taken me by surprise, Major Raynor. We took it for granted that your daughter would at least add her quota to the income : had it been but three or four hundred a year. Without money of her own, there could be no settlement on her, you see, my son’s not being real property.” The Major was growing a little heated. He did not at all like the turn the conversation was taking, or Sir Philip’s dictatorial tone. “Well, you hear, Sir Philip, that Alice has nothing. Those who wish to take her must take her as she is—portionless—or not at all.” “Sir Philip Stane rose. “I am sorry then, Major, that I cannot ask what I was about to ask—for fer. Your daughter “You are not wanted to ask it, sir,” hotly interrupted the Major. “The fact of your daughter’s being portionless debars it,” quietly went on the Knight. “I am very sorry indeed to have troubled you, and subjected myself to pain. William must consider his pretensions at an end.” “They are at an end,” fired the Major. “If it is money he has been thinking of all this while, he ought to be ashamed of himself for a calculating, mercenary young rascal. Were he to come to me, on his knees, after this, begging for my daughter, he should not have her. That’s my answer, Sir Philip Stane, and you can take it away~ with, ita The Major’s peal of the bell echoed through the house. ut comicbooks.com A__