The Argosy — page 85: what you’re looking at

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

The Missing Rubies. 75 buttercups, and looking forward to a long ramble in the fields with her lover. What a happy summer they were going to have this year ! One evening, when his day’s work ‘was done, Mr. Milton was walk- ing up and down the little yard, reading the paper and smoking a cigar. The French window was open ; just inside the sitting-room sat Beatrice, her lap full of violets; and Godwin, by her side, was holding a dish of water to receive the flowers. Harriet, with her account-books, had stationed herself at the table, and was reckoning away, quite undisturbed by the low voices of the young people. And high above walls and roofs could be seen the clear April sky, with scarcely a cloud upon its faintly-fading blue. ‘Bless my soul!” cried Mr. Milton, suddenly stopping short in his walk. They all started. It was so seldom that such an ejaculation escaped his lips that Harriet and Beatrice exchanged bewildered looks. Then the former laid down her pen, rose quickly, and hastened out into the yard to join him. “Look here, my dear,” he said, putting the S/andard into her hand. Harriet took the paper, and read aloud in rather an unsteady voice : “If Beatrice Ward, only child of the late Captain Arthur Ward, of the Royal Oakshire Regiment (190th Foot) will communicate with Messrs. Blair and Bellenden, 17, Chancery Lane, she will hear of something to her advantage.” ‘“‘ Now what can be the meaning of this?” cried Mrs. Milton, look- ing round upon the three startled faces. “To my certain knowledge, Beatrice has not a relation in the world. Poor Mrs. Ward was a Trevor, and all her people are dead. And as to Captain Ward, her grandfather has said a hundred times that he was the last of his race!” “Tsn’t there a mistake?” Beatrice asked. ‘Was there another Ward in papa’s regiment ?” “ With an only child named Beatrice? Hardly likely,” said God- win. “One of your father’s old friends has probably a wish to find you. He must have made many friends, you know, in India.” “That is it, Earle,” replied Mr. Milton, taking up the paper again, “And I daresay Messrs. Blair and Bellenden will have very little to say. There may be a small legacy to be paid, or something of that sort. Beatrice had better write to them to-day.” And Beatrice crowded her violets into the dish, got her desk, and wrote a letter which was duly approved by Harriet and Godwin. After the first little shock of surprise was past, they all made merry over the girl’s great expectations, and conjured up wonderful visions of future wealth and magnificence. But the talk was mere fun; no one really believed that anything important was to come out of the =| comicbooks.com