The Argosy — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

My Cousin Caroline's Wedding. 7 3 before me, I wondered whether mine did not, of the two, better deserve the name of fast P “These periodical fast-days, my son,” cried the priest to me, ‘are wholesome for the soul.” ‘“‘ Perhaps more so than they would be for the body, holy father, if it attacked but half of the fast before us.” ‘“‘ Highly good,” repeated the priest, ‘‘these days of mortification.” And I’m sure he meant what he said, though he did laugh as he said it. ‘What do you think of Captain Fitzhenry, father?” “A docile young man ; a worthy gentleman, my son. I have held frequent converse with him, and his deference to good opinions is remarkable. Reared though he has been in the tenets of an opposite creed, he 1s perfectly willing to listen to reason. Had we found him otherwise, I might have held it my duty to warn my good daughter here against entrusting the welfare of that lamb to his keeping.” The priest bowed to Mrs. Dashingly, and waved his finger at Caroline, lest the company present should not fully understand that they were the daughter and the lamb spoken of. It was only his way. “A charming young man—a generous spirit!” apostrophised the priest, burying his face in a whole boatful of rich melted butter. *‘Qur next care must be Lina,” said Mrs. Dashingly, looking daggers at my sister, who was turning crimson. ‘Captain Fitzhenry often re- monstrates with her on her obstinacy.” “Ah,” sighed the priest, as he hesitated between potted lampreys and roast salmon, ‘‘that estimable young man is three parts of a saint already. He has promised this sweet lamb that when she is his wife, she shall endow a chapel.” ‘‘A generous fellow, this bridegroom-elect of yours, Carry,” I whis- pered. | A flashing, beaming, triumphant glance shot from her eyes towards me, as she looked up from her plate. She was quite sensible of the ad- vantages to be derived from a rich and submissive husband. I was anything but anxious to see him. He was already sketched, drawn, coloured, and hung up in my mind’s eye—a_ harmless milksop of a baby of twenty, who dared not say his soul was his own, and whose head had been constructed to carry as few brains as possible. Who else would be taken (in) by a jfassée flirt like Caroline? Some- how, since aunt had so kindly helped to cure my own infatuation, I had grown wonderfully alive to the real worth and attractions of my-fair cousin. | : Father Peter took leave after dinner, and I went with the ladies to the drawing-room. There, leaning over.the back of Carry’s chair, I made violent love to her, by way of passing the time.<: ‘She wa relapsing into her old coquettish ways ere I had been there ten minutes—on my mn SS (CO) mn —_)