The Argosy — page 295: what you’re looking at

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

A Great Mystery. 277 “No,” interposed Miss Deveen. “It would not be prudent for your niece to venture out in this rain, Jemima.” “The church 1s only over the way.” ‘ But consider the illness she has but just got up from. Let her stay in doors.” Cattledon went off without any more opposition, Janet kneeling down unasked, to put on her clogs, and then opening her umbrella for her in the hall. Janet did not comein again. Miss Deveen went out to sit with a sick neighbour : so we were alone. “What a cranky oid thing that Cattledon is!” cried Bill, throwing down his newspaper. ‘She'd have walked that sick girl off in the wet, you see.” ‘* How old is Cattledon?” asked Tod. “Sixty ?” “Oh, you stupid fellow !” exclaimed Helen, looking up from the stool on the hearth rug, where she was sitting, nursingher knees. “ Cattledon sixty! Why, she can’t be above forty-five.” It was disrespectful no doubt, but we all called her plain “‘ Cattledon ”’ behind her back ; putting no handle to her name. “That’s rather a queer girl, that niece,” said Tod. “She won’t speak to one: she’s like a frightened hare.” “*T like her,” said Anna. ‘I feel very sorry for her. She gives one the idea of having been always put upon: and she looks dreadfully ill.” “‘T should say she has been kept in some Blue Beard’s cupboard, amid a lot of hanging wives, and they’ve permanently scared her,” remarked Bill. “It’s Cattledon,” said Tod. “It’s not the wives. She puts upon the girl and frightens her senses out of her. Cattledon’s a cross-grained, two-edged ” He had to shut up: Janet Carey was coming in again. For about five minutes nobody spoke. There seemed to be nothing to say. Bill played at ball with Miss Deveen’s red pen wiper: Anna began turning over the periodicals: Helen gave the cat a box when it would have jumped on her knee. “Well, this is lively!” cried Tod. ‘“ Nothing on earth to do ; I won- der why the rain couldn’t have kept off till to-morrow Pe” *“‘T say,” whispered Helen, treason sparkling from her bright eyes,” let us have up that old fortune-teller. I'll go and ask Lettice.” She whisked out of the room, shutting the tail of her black silk dress in the door-way, and called Lettice. A few minutes, an.] Mrs. Ness came in, courtesying. A stout old lady in a cotton shawl and broad- bordered cap with a big red bow tied in front of it. ‘‘T say, Mrs. Ness, can you tell our fortunes ?” cried Bill. ‘* Bless you, young gentlefolks, I’ve told a many in my time. I'll tell yours, if you like to bid me, sir.” * Do the cards tell true ?” ECoOMmicloooks (CO) am we