The Argosy — page 107: what you’re looking at

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

A Sccret of the Sea. 95 minutes were over he should be called upon to disburse five guineas. “That’s the worst of making chance travelling acquaintances,” he said to himself. “They are sure to turn up at some future date and want you to do something for them. So many people want you to do some- thing for them !” ‘* Not quite made your fortune, then ? ” he said aloud. Gerald’s only answer was an expressive shrug of the shoulders. ‘¢ When I saw you last you talked about going to the Antipodes. What has brought you back again?” ‘‘ Partly that lack of pence with which all really great men are afflicted, and partly a little private business which required my presence at home.” “You are a born Bohemian, Pomeroy—one of those incorrigibles on whom argument and advice alike are thrown away.” “ Utterly thrown away—utterly : and I glory in the confession.” ‘¢ And what are your prospects for the future ?” ‘‘T am happy to say that I have no prospects in particular. Never had such things in my life.” “ Nor any present necessities ?” ‘¢ Ah! now you touch me on a tender point.” ‘How can I be of service to you? Is there anything I can do for — you in a modest way Pe” ‘¢ Well—you may invite me to dinner if you like.” ‘That I'll do willingly. I suppose if the dinner were supplemented with an offer of a five-pound note you would not feel offended.” “‘ Offended! Not a bit of it,” said Gerald with a laugh. “ But remem- ber this, Kelvin—TI have not asked you for money.” ‘¢ Oh, I fully appreciate your delicacy of feeling,” answered Kelvin, not without a sneer. ‘‘Well—we dine at six sharp. No company, only my mother and my cousin.” Gerald rose and took up his hat. “I suppose you would find it somewhat difficult,” said Kelvin, “ after vagabondising about the world for so long a time, to settle down to any quiet steady employment : too monotonous and that sort of thing—eh ?” “T don’t know so much about that,” said Gerald. “Certainly liberty is sweet, and it is pleasant to be one’s own master. Besides which, as yet I have given no hostages to fortune, and having only my own un- worthy self to look after, 1 daresay that I should find it. difficult to ‘ settle down into a steady, sober, tax-paying citizen, who sits on a stool from one year’s end to another, and who knows the amount of his income toapenny. No, I am afraid that I should find such a life slightly tedious.” Kelvin laughed. “ “Why don’t you go in for marrying an heiress?” he said. “You talk, mon ami!—talk as if heiresses were as plentiful as black- berries.” CORNICE OOS (GO) __) J