The Argosy — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

The Story of Dorothy Grape. III it prevented her writing to ask Elizabeth Deavor whether she had again seen ‘Tom. Things, despite Mr. Mapping’s assurances, did not come right. As the spring advanced, his absences became more marked and the money less plentiful. Dolly shed many tears. She knew not what to do; for, as the old song says, “‘ Lips, though blooming, must still be fed, and not e’en love can live on flowers.” Mrs. Turk grew uneasy. Dolly assured her there was no occasion for that; that if the worst came to the worst, they must break into the “‘nest egg” they had, lying by inthe Bank of England—the three hundred pounds left her by her mother. One bright day in May, Dolly, pining for the outdoor sunshine, betook herself to Hyde Park, a penny roll in her pocket for her dinner. The sun glittered in the blue sky, the air was warm, the birds chirped in the trees and hopped on the green grass. Dolly sat on a bench enjoying the sweetness and the tranquillity, thinking how very de- lightful life might be when no evil stepped in to mar it. Two quakeress ladies approached arm in arm, talking busily. Dolly started up with a cry: for the younger one was Elizabeth Deavor. She had come to London with a friend for the May meetings. The two girls were delighted to see each other, but Elizabeth was pressed for time. “Why did thee never write to me, Dorothy? I had but one letter from thee, written at Gloucester, telling me, thee knows, all about thy poor father.” And, to this, Dolly murmured some lame excuse. ‘“‘T wanted to write to thee, but I had not thy address. I promised thee I would look out for Tom y ‘And have you seen him again?” interrupted Dolly in excitement. “Oh, Elizabeth !” “T have seen the boy again, but it was not Tom: and I am very sorry that my fancy misled me and caused me to excite thy hopes. It was only recently, in Fourth month. I saw the same boy standing in the same place before thy old gate, his arms folded, and looking at the house as before, in the moonlight. Iran out, and caught his arm, and held it while he told me who he was and why he came there. It was not thy brother, Dorothy, but the likeness to him is marvellous.” ‘No ?—not he ?” gasped Dolly, wofully Saeed. “Tt is one Richard East,” said Elizabeth ; ‘‘a young sailor. He lived with his mother in that house before’ she died, and when he comes home from a voyage now, and is “bh with his friends in Melcheapen Street, he likes to go up there and have a good look at it. That is all. As I say, I am sorry to have misled thee. We think there cannot be a doubt that poor Tom really lost his life that night in the canal. And art thee nicely, Dorothy ?—and is thy husband well? Thee art looking very thin. Fare thee well.” The summer passed, Dolly hardly knew how. She was often re- (CO) mn EGOMIIGIOOKS