The Argosy — page 297: what you’re looking at

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

Camping Out. 239 the bright blue eyes threw occasional shy glances at him, their owner leaning against the side of the window, pulling rose-leaves from the branches above her head. ‘ What a picture,” thought poor Tom, disconsolately ; and so many another would have said. Then back came the old lady. “ Hope you’re comfortable, Mr. ‘“Candlish,” said Tom, rising, with a courteous bow. “ Ah, Candlish—yes, I know the name. Your things are drying beautifully, cook says. Quite extraordinary the interest she takes in them, my love,” addressing the young girl, “for she is rather bad- tempered.” Tom smiled, thinking of the silver key to cook’s affections. Then he felt it his duty to hasten his departure. “T am really ashamed of intruding on your kindness longer, madam. If you will allow me to prepare my boat for starting.” “Well, if you wish it. They shall bring your things shortly, and we will stroll across the lawn with you.” “ Here’s your parasol, auntie,” said the girl, at the same time placing a sailor-hat on her pretty golden head. Auntie and the parasol rested inan arbour, while the two young people stood by the flowing, sparkling nver—freighted with dangerous charms in such an hour and such an opportunity ! “So your boat is called the Flora,” said the girl, lifting her arch eyes to his. A dull cloud and angry frown crossed Tom’s face. “ Yes, but that will soon be painted out,” he said, with a firm com- pression of his lips. “Why ?” asked the maiden, innocently. “ Because—because I’m not a humbug, and I don’t like one name on my boat, and another in my heart,” blurted Tom, an honest flush on his handsome face, as he looked down with rapidly-beating pulses at the fair face and form beside him. Provokingly sweet and calm was the expression with which she said: “And pray what name is in your heart ?” “ By heavens! I don’t know! I wish I did!” cried poor Tom, despairingly, as he beheld cook labouring down with his wraps. The aunt drew near, there was nothing for it but to go, and it was a hard struggle—that courteous leave taking and thanksgiving. “So glad to have been of use! Hope you won’t suffer!” said the old lady, genially, as Tom raised his straw hat and glided away on that Stream which now seemed hurrying him from all he cared for, and to- wards all he hated. “Oh, to be back at Oxford, with my debts, my short purse, and my freedom!” sighed the poor boy. 99 Tom’s uncle was a rich old lawyer. He was surprised one evening, just after dinner, by a visit from his nephew. GOGO S (SO)