The Argosy — page 180: what you’re looking at

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

164 Anne Hereford. HE ARcosv. will see on the left hand a house standing by itself, with ‘ Mr. Gregg, Attorney at Law,’ on a plate on the door. Go in, ask to see Mr. Gregg alone, and give him that note. But mind, Anne, you are not to speak of this to any one. Should Mr. Edwin Barley or any one else meet you, and inquire where you are going, say only that you are walk- ing out. Do you fully understand?” “Yes.” , ‘‘ Hide the note, so that no one sees it, and give it into Mr. Gregg’s hands. ‘Tell him I hope he will comprehend it, but that I was too ill to write it more elaborately.” No one noticed me as I left the house, and I pursued the road to Hallam, my head and thoughts full. Suppose Mr. Edwin Barley should meet and question me! I knew that I should make a poor hand at de- ception : besides being naturally open, mamma had brought me up to be so very candid and truthful. I had crushed the note inside my glove, having no better place of concealment—suppose he should seize my hand and find it! And if the gentleman I was going to see should not be at home, what was I to do then? Bring the note back to Selina, or leave it? I ought to have asked her. “ Well, my little maid, and where are you off to ?” The salutation proceeded from Mr. Martin, who had come nght upon me at a turning of the road. My face grew hot as I answered him. “I am out for a walk, sir.” ‘But this is rather far to come alone. You are close upon Hallam.” “ My Aunt Selina knows it, sir,” I said, trembling lest he should stop me, or order me to walk back with him. ‘‘Oh, very well,” he answered, good-naturedly. “ How is she to- day ?” ‘‘ She is not any better, sir,” I replied. And he left me, telling me I was not to lose myself. I came to the houses, straggling at first, but soon contiguous to each other, as they are in most streets. Mr. Gregg’s stood alone, its plate on the door. A young man came running out of it as I stood hesitating whether to knock or ring. ‘If you please, is Mr. Gregg at home ?” “Yes,” answered he. ‘‘ He is in the office. You can go in if you want him.” Opening an inner door, he showed me into a room where there seemed to be a confused mass of faces. In reality there might have been three or four, but they multiplied themselves to my timid eyes. ‘‘ A little girl wants to see Mr. Gregg,” said the young man. A tall gentleman came forward, with a pale face and gray whiskers. He said he was Mr. Gregg, and asked what my business was. ‘‘T want to see you by yourself, if you please, sir.” comicaooks GO) mn ee