The Argosy — page 147: what you’re looking at

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

Madge's Sacrifice. } 137 4,10 note in an old leather purse: and muffling the little head in a thick veil she had wisely brought for the-purpose, Madge hastened to join her brother. Kit, preoccupied with his own troubles, did not notice at first any alteration in her appearance. And they walked briskly homewards, he lamenting over the loss of some of his favourite books which the bookseller was to take off his hands to the amount of £10. “And I am sure they cost me at least double that,” sighed the youth. ‘If there is one thing more intolerable than another in this weary world, it’s poverty, and no mistake.” ““ Now, don’t grumble, Kit,” said Madge cheerily. “I don’t think It’s half bad to be poor. It must be very hard not to be selfish, when you can always have just what you want. I’ve often thought what a help it was not to be rich.” “‘ But, then, Madge, you know you're not like other people. You always were an oddity, though of the nght sort. But what a pace you are going at! are you cold?” *‘T should think I was; the wind seems to blow right into my skull.” ‘* And you've got a thick veil on, too. I say, Madge, what have you done to your head ?” “I’ve been to the hair-dresser’s, of course. Wait till by-and-by before you criticise the result. I call it first-rate.” And so they chatted on till the oldfvicarage was gained, where Madge crept up to her room the back way, her head aching so, poor girl, from its unusual exposure to the cutting east wind, that she could only lay it on her pillow and cry. Presently the dinner-bell rang, and Madge started up, realizing for the first time the ordeal she had to go through, and in her present aching state dreading it extremely. The pain was a sufficient excuse for a little delay. So, locking her door, she sent down a message that her head ached badly, and she had rather rest than eat, and then covering herself up on the bed, she fell into a sound slumber. Twilight was creeping on when she awoke, much refreshed, though cold and hungry. She smoothed down the short ends of gold, that had got stivered out into a sort of halo during her sleep, and descended to the oak-panelied parlour. There, as she expected, was the whole family party sitting round the hearth in the gloaming. But, as she had not expected, another youth sat by Kit’s side; Tom Helston himself. He had joyfully set off for home as soon as Kit’s remittance had arrived. He sprang up eagerly to greet her as she came in, but gave an in- voluntary start as the firelight played on the glossy cropped head. At the same moment a chorus of voices exclaimed, “‘Why, Madge, what have you done to yourself?” ECOMRRIC OOO Ss (GO)