The Argosy — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

82 ‘The Master of Greylands. vogue before envelopes were used, and sealed with the Castlemaine crest in red wax, lay on the side-table door, ready to be posted. His left hand was inside his waistcoat, resting on the broad pleated shirt- fnll of fine cambric; his bright dark eyes had rather a troubled look in them as they sought that old building over the fields opposite, the Friar’s Keep, and the sparkling sea beyond. In reality, Mr. Castle- maine was looking neither at the Friar’s Keep nor the sea, for he was deep in thought, and saw nothing. The Master of Greylands was of a superstitious nature : it may as well be stated candidly: difficult though it was to believe such of so practical a man. Not to the extent of giving credit to stories of ghosts and apparitions ; the probability is that in his heart he would have laughed at that; but he did believe in signs and warnings, in omens of ill-luck and good luck. On this self-same morning he had awoke with an impression of dis- comfort, as if some impending evil were hanging over him ; he could not account for it, for there was no conducing cause; and at the time he did not connect it with any superstitious feeling or fancy, but thought he must be either out of sorts, or had had something to annoy him that he did not at the moment recollect. Three or four little hindrances, or mishaps, occurred when he was dressing. First of all, he could not find his slippers: he hunted here; he looked there; and then remembered that he had left them the previous night in his study —a most unusual thing for him to do—and he had to go and fetch them, or else dress in his stockings. Next, in putting on a clean shirt, he tore the button-hole at the neck, and was obliged to change it for another one. And the last thing he did wasto upset all his shaving- water, and had to wait while fresh was brought. “Nothing but hindrances: it seems as though I were not to get dressed to-day,’ muttered the Master of Greylands. ‘Can the day have any ill-luck in store for me?” The intelligent reader will doubtless be much surprised to hear him ask so ridiculous a question. Nevertheless, the same kind of thing had occurred twice before in Mr. Castlemaine’s life, and each time a great evil had followed. Not of the present time was he thinking, now as he stood, but of one of those past days, and of what it had brought forth. “ Poor Maria!” he softly cried—alluding to his first wife, of whom he had been passionately fond. ‘ Well, and merry, and loving in the morning ; and at night stretched before me in death. It was an awful accident ! and I—I have never cared quite so much for the world since. Maria was—what Is it? Come in.” A knock at the door had disturbed the reflections. Mr. Castlemaine let fall his coat tails, which he had then caught up, and turned his head to it. A man-servant appeared. COMIC OOOKS. EO af)" —_)