The Argosy — page 128: what you’re looking at

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

116 Featherston’s Story. a violent shiver; which seemed difficult to be accounted for. ‘‘ Mary, if that man has to take up his abode in the house, I can never stay in it. I would rather die.” ‘Look here, dear friend,” whispered Mary: “life is full of trouble—as Job tells us in the Holy Scriptures—none of us are exempt from it. It attacks us all in turn. The only one thing we can do is to strive to make the best of it, under God; to ask Him to help us. I am afraid there is a severe cross before you, Lavinia ; better dear it than fight against it.” “‘T will never bear ¢Aaé,” retorted Lavinia, turning a deaf ear in her anger. ‘You ought not to wish me to do so.” ‘And I would not if I saw anything better for you.” Madame Veuve Sauvage, sitting as usual at her front window that same morning, was surprised at receiving an early call from her tenant, Miss Preen. Madame handed her into her best crimson velvet fauteuil, and they began talking. Not to much purpose, however; for neither very well understood what the other said. Lavinia tried to explain the object of her visit, but found her French was not equal to it. Madame called her maid, Mariette, and sent her into the shop below to ask M. Gustave to be good enough to step up. Lavinia had gone to beg of them to cancel the agreement for the little house, so far as her sister was concerned, and to place it in her name only. Monsieur Gustave, when he had mastered the request, politely answered that such a thing was not practicable ; Miss Ann’s name could not be struck out of the lease without her consent, or, as he expressed it, break the bail. His mother and himself had every disposition to oblige Miss Preen in any way, as indeed she must know, but they had no power to act against the law. 50 poor Miss Lavinia went into her home wringing her hands in despair. She was perfectly helpless. IT. THE summer days went on. Mr. Edwin Fennel, with all the im- pudence in the world, had taken up his abode in the petite Maison Rouge, without saying with your leave or by your leave. “How could you /¢Aink of bringing him here, Ann?” Lavinia demanded of her sister in the first days. ‘“‘T did not think of it; it was he thought of it,” returned Mrs. Fennel in her simple way. ‘I feared you would not like it, Lavinia ; but what could I do? He seemed to look upon it as a matter of course that he should come.” Yes, there he was; “a matter of course;” making one in the home. Lavinia could not show fight; he was Ann’s husband and ECOMiCcOOolkKS —_— (CO