The Argosy — page 300: what you’re looking at

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

Sandstone Torr, 2709 Pitchley’s farm and Pitchley’s roses lay hot and bright under the summer sunshine. Mr. Duffham went straight in, and looked about for its mistress. In the sitting-rooms, in the kitchen, in the dairy: he and his cane, and could not see her. ‘“Missis have stepped out, sir,” said Sally, who was scrubbing the kitchen table. ‘‘A fearful headache she have got to-day.” ‘A headache, has she!” responded Duffham. ‘I don’t think she’s never without one,” remarked Sally, dipping her brush into the saucer of white sand. ‘““ Where’s Mr. Skate 2?” ‘Him ? Oh, he be gone over to Alcester market, sir.” ‘You go and find your mistress, Sally, and say I particularly wish to speak with her. ‘Tell her that I have some very good news for her.” Sally left her brush and her sand, and went out with the message. The doctor strolled into the best parlour, and cribbed one of the many roses intruding their blooming beauty into the open window. Mr. Duffham had to exercise his patience. It seemed to him that he waited half an hour. Annet came in at last, saying how sorry she was to have kept him: she had stepped over to see their carter’s wife, who was ill, and Sally had but just found her. She wore her morning gown of black and white print, with the small net widow’s cap on her bright hair. But for the worn look in her face, the sad eyes, she was just as pretty as ever; and Duffham thought so. | ‘Sally says you have some good news for me,” she observed with a poor, faint smile. ‘‘It must be a joke of yours, Mr. Duffham. There’s no news that could be good for me.” ‘¢ Wait till you hear it,” said he. ‘‘ You have had a fortune left you ? It is so good, Mrs. Frank Radcliffe, that I’m afraid to tell you. You may go into a fit; or do some other foolish thing.” ‘“Indeed no. Nothing can ever have much effect on me again.” ‘Don’t you make too sure of that,” said Duffham. ‘“‘ You've never felt quite sure about that death of your husband, up at Dale’s, have you? Thought there was something queer about 1t—eh?” “Yes,” she said. ‘I have thought it.” “ Well, some of us have been looking into it a little. And we find— in short, we are not at all sure that—that Frank did die.” “Oh !”—her hands lifting themselves in agitation—‘‘ What 1s. it, sir? You have come to disclose to me that my husband was murdered:” “The contrariness of woman!” exclaimed Duffham, giving the floor a thump with his cane. ‘‘ Why, Mrs. Frank Radcliffe, I told you as plainly as I could speak, that it was good news I brought. So good, that I hardly thought you could bear it with equanimity. Your husband was vot murdered.” | Poor Annet never answered a word to this. She only gazed at him. GomiilGaooks mM