The Argosy — page 158: what you’re looking at

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

The Grey Cottage. 145 A little old man leaning on a stick.” ‘‘T saw him too, Mrs. Cameron,” added Mr. Kirby. ‘We had better say nothing to the girls,” whispered Leonard. “No, nor to anyone else, Leonard. ‘The whole place would be astir.” ‘ What—on account of old Vallyer?” I nodded. Just then the girls came running out. ‘What a long time you have been! Have you found him ?” ‘Of course not,” Leonard replied. ‘‘ He had got clear off: those tramps are cunning. Let us have supper—it’s awfully cold!” This second little episode put me very much out of conceit with my pretty cottage. My nieces had a pressing invitation from Leonard’s mother, and were to return with him to London. I thought I would gO away somewhere too. It was the afternoon of the day before Leonard and they were to leave. We had had one heavy fall of snow, and the air was again thick with the feathery flakes. Strangely depressed, both mentally and bodily, I stood alone at the window and looked out over the valley, which lay so still under its great white shroud. At last Cecily came in and stood by me.: ‘You will be very lonely, aunt, after we are gone.” ** Ay.” And then we stood in silence. Suddenly the girl laid her hand on my arm, as though to attract my attention. A chilly draught of wind seemed to blow through the room, raising the hair off my forehead with a pricking sensation. A feeble, bent figure, leaning heavily on a stick, passed slowly and silently from the door to the other window. A coal falling in the grate, the flame flickered up, showing distinctly the old man whom I had twice before seen! The apparition, for such I now felt it to be, stood looking out of the window, with a worn, sad expression, such as his face might often have borne in the lonely, loveless life he had chosen for himself. After a moment or two of perfect stillness I could bear it no longer. Springing to the fire I stirred it vigorously ; the flames rose up into. the chimney and the little room was in a blaze of light. The old man was gone! Cecily grasped my hands in both her own, for she had seen it too; every trace of the usual bright colour had vanished from her lips and face, and she was trembling from head to: foot. I went up with them the next day, and took old Martha with me: I could not stay in the place any more. ‘The agent was informed of these facts, and he let me off easily, and made no remonstrance ; so we thought mine could not have been the first complaint of the sort. It is said the grey cottage is to be a cottage no longer ; that it is to be pulled down. And I sincerely hope it will be. SS im