The Argosy — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

The Village Blacksmith. 19 Norah did not speak. She turned round to her wash-tub, but instead of resuming her washing, she threw her apron over her head and burst into tears. This action was as unexpected by Rex as it was unwelcome to him, though he interpreted it to mean that his request would ultimately be granted. But such success was not an unqualified joy. It was accompanied with embarrassment, for Rex did not know what to do. He could neither put his arm round Norah’s very extensive waist nor seize one of her half-dry hands, and no other method of comforting a weeping woman suggested itself to his young mind. Yes, it was decidedly embarrassing. It was annoying, too, for it delayed matters. It was also unpleasant, for it made him feel he was a brute to grieve his old nurse in this way. Norah’s grief, however, was short, if somewhat violent; a heavy shower, after which signs of clearing appeared. Life was not long enough in her opinion to indulge in sorrow except in the interludes between washing and rinsing, starching and ironing. It was only in such spare moments that she allowed her genuine sorrow for the lamented Canter to have free course. This new trouble had sur- prised her into tears, for it came upon her so suddenly, and she had not the slightest suspicion that any feeling of affection existed between Rex and Janet Foreman. That Rex admired Janet she knew, for it was impossible for any man, young or old, gentle or simple, to be blind to her beauty; but the young people had arranged their stolen meetings so cleverly that no news of them had reached Norah’s ears. After this outburst, Mrs. Canter dried her eyes on her apron ; and, allowing the laundress element in her composition, which had been held in abeyance by the communication Rex had just made, to resume its sway, she plunged her arms elbow-deep into the soap- suds before her, exclaiming as she did so: *‘ Drat the clothes ! ” « Drat” is a word hardly to be considered elegant English. If Mr. Ryot Tempest had heard it the shock to his nervous system and his classical taste would have been so great that he would probably have been seized with a fit. But his son cared not a mish for the purity of the English language, and he justly considered the expression as a sign that his appeal for help was successful. It was so. When Norah said “drat the clothes,” she intended to convey the righteous indignation she felt, not only because such prosaic considerations as dirty linen should thus interrupt a conver- sation on so romantic a topic as a clandestine marriage, but also because the laws of society were allowed to cut so sharply and so inexorably across the romance of life. Rex, who, during Mrs. Canter’s tears, had been whistling softly, burst out laughing when she thus delivered herself. ‘‘ There is a deal more reason for crying than for laughing, COMiCOOOkxS.con