The Argosy — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

42 Our First Term at Oxford. ‘‘No, sir: no, thank you,” he said, shrinking back. “I answered your remark thoughtlessly, sir, for it’s the truth ; not with any notion that it would make you ask me to take anything. And I’ve got my bread-and-butter here.” Going indoors, I told them to serve him a good tea, with a big dish of bacon and eggs, or some relishing thing of that sort. Whitney came in and heard me. “You be hanged, Johnny! We are not going in for all that, here !” “It’s not for us, Bill; it’s for that poor old scout, Charley. He's as surely dying as that you and I are talking. Come and look at him: you never saw such an object. I don’t believe he gets enough to eat.” Whitney came, and did nothing but stare. Charley went indoors with a good deal of pressing, and we saw him sit down to the feast. Whitney stayed ; I went out of doors again. I remembered a similar case. It was that of a young woman who used to make Lena's frocks. She fell into a decline. Her appe- tite was wonderful. Anything good and substantial to eat and drink, she was always craving for: and it all seemed to do her no good. Charley Tasson’s sickness must be of the same nature. She died: and he—— I was struck dumb! Seated on the bench under the trees, my thoughts back in that past time, there came two figures over the rustic bridge. A lady and gentleman, arm in arm: she in a hat and blue feather and dainty lace parasol ; and he with bent head and words softened to a whisper. ‘Tod !—and Sophie Chalk ! “Good gracious! There’s Johnny Ludlow!” | She loosed his arm as she spoke, and came sailing up to me, her gold bracelets" jingling as she gave her hand. I don’t believe there are ten women in England who could get themselves up as effectively as did Sophie Chalk. Tod looked black as thunder. “What the devil brings you here, Johnny ?” “‘I rowed up with Whitney.” A pause. ‘“ Who else is here?” “Forbes of Merton: Whitney has been about with him. And I suppose a few others. We noticed a skiff or two waiting. Perhaps one was yours.” | I spoke indifferently, determined he should not know I was put out. Seeing him there—I was going to say on the sly—with that beguiling syren, who was to foretel what pitfalls she might charm him into? He took Madame Sophie on his arm again to continue their promenade, and I lost sight of them. | I did not like it. It was not satisfactory. He had rowed her up— or perhaps driven her up—and was marching about with her téte-a-téte under the sweet spring sunshine. No great harm in itself this pastime : but he might get too fond of it. That she had re acquuree all I Ts (C(O) mn —_)