The Argosy — page 247: what you’re looking at

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a 228 Five Thousand a Year. “But you must eat, Margaret,” he answered, in a more serious tone. “It is no good going on, day after day, saying you cannot eat; you must eat.” She made no reply. Only sighed and took possession of his hand, lying with it pressed close to her, her eyes closed. He gazed at her in silence ; and, now that she was not looking, the hopeful expression faded from his own face. He mew she was in a precarious state. “ Little has got into a splendid thing,” he said, presently. * Has he?” | ‘Some mines in Cornwall. He and some more fellows are going to work them. I expect, when the thing’s regularly afoot, Little will be netting his thousands a year. It is astonishing to hear his account of the wealth opening to them. I have half a mind to drop my spare cash into it.” ‘“* Nonsense, Adam!” . “ Of course I must hear more about it first, and be all sure. I am going out after dinner to meet Little, and look at his plans and papers. But I shall be back by eight o’clock, Margaret.” Mr. Grainger’s getting back at eight, proved to be ten. His head was in a whirl with the grand projects for making wealth, just unfolded to him. They went out of it, however, when he found his wife still in — the drawing-room ; and he inquired, almost in anger, how she could be — so imprudent. ‘‘T waited for you,” she said, scarcely able, now, to speak from ex- haustion. “And I have too much bed. Up from it late, and going to it | . early! It makes me weaker. I know it does. ‘To-morrow I shall get up to breakfast.” ‘“‘ Margaret ! how can you speak so foolishly ?” “T shall. I shall get up and try it.” “Very well,” he cheerfully said. He would not contest the point then, for she was in no state for it. | And the following morning she did get up. Not to breakfast, but directly after it. By ten o’clock she was in the drawing-room. Standing for a moment at the window, and looking out on the gay London street, she saw Sophy cross the road with Algernon in her hand, towards the — house of the schoolmistress. It was partly within view, is a side street, at right angles with their own. “Sad management!” she exclaimed, turning to her a “Ten o’clock, and the child not taken! Itisa sign I am away from every- thing.” | She lay down: and presently, to her surprise, she heard the v voice ot Algernon on the stairs, talking to one of the servants. Sophy came in alone. ‘‘What have you brought him back for?” her mistress pats almost sharply. “Tf you please, ma'am, Mrs. Smith is dead.” Eomicbooks.co