The Argosy — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

Margaret Rymer. 119 ‘“‘T know that,” said the curate. And he shook Ben’s hand upon it as heartily as though it had been a duke royal'’s. It was close upon ten when Ben left him. Mrs. Rymer about that same time was making her usual preparations before retiring—namely putting her curls in paper by the parlour fire. Margaret sat at the table, reading the Bible in silence, and so trying to school her aching heart. Her mother had been cross and trying all the evening. ‘What are you crying for?” suddenly demanded Mrs. Rymer, her sharp eyes seeing a tear fall on the book. “Kor nothing,” faintly replied Margaret. “ Nothing! Don’t tell me. You are frizzling your bones over that curate Sale. I’m sure 4e’s a beauty to look at,!” Margaret made no rejoinder: and just then a loud ring came to the outer door. Such late summonses were not unusual ; they generally meant a prescription to be made up. While the maid went to the door, Margaret closed the Bible, dried her eyes,{and rose up to be in readi- ness. But instead of a prescription, there entered Mr. Benjamin Rymer. His mother stood up, staring, her hair ajmass of white corkscrews. Ben clasped Margaret in his arms and kissed her heartily. *¢ My goodness me/” cried Mrs, Rymer. ‘Is it you, Ben?” “ Yes, it is, mother,” said Ben, turning to her. “ Maggie, dear . “But what on earth have you come for—in this startling way ?” demanded Mrs. Rymer. ‘I don’t believe your bed’s aired.” “Tl sleep between the blankets—the best ;place to-night. What have I come for, you ask, mother; I have come home to stay.” Margaret was gazing at him, her mild eyes wide open, a spot of hectic on either cheek. “For your sake, Maggie,” he whispered, putting his arm round her waist, and bending his great red head (but not so red as his mother’s) down on her. “I shan’t much like to lose you, though, my little sister. The Bahamas are further off than I could have wished.” _And, for answer, poor Margaret, what with one thing and another, sank quietly down in her chair, and fainted. Ben strode into the shop —as much at home amid the bottles as though he had never quitted them—and came back with some sal volatile. They were married in less than a month. The Rector was ailing as usual, or said he was, and Charles Ashton came over [to perform the ceremony. Margaret was in plain things: they were to go away from the church door, and the boxes were already at the station. Ben gave her away, dressed well, for once, and there was no bridesmaid. And after a day or two spent in the seaport town they were to sail from, regaling their eyes with the ships crowding{the water, the Reverend Isaac Sale and his wife embarked for their future home in the Bahama Islands. } JoHNNy LUDLOW. 99 CORNICE OOS