The Argosy — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

Court Netherleigh. 97 ‘Ah, yes, thank you—Rosemary Lodge,” repeated his lordship, dropping a shilling into the porter’s hand, and hailing the first cab he met. “Rosemary Lodge, Brixton,” said he to the driver. “Ves, sir. What part of Brixton?” ‘Don’t know at all,” said his lordship. ‘‘ Never was at Brixton in my life.” ‘Brixton’s a straggling sort of place, you see, sir. I might be driving you about ——” “Tt is between Brixton and Clapham,” interrupted the Earl. “Rosemary Lodge: Sir Turtle Kite’s.” “Oh come, the name’s something,” said the man, as he drove off. Rosemary Lodge was not difficult to find, once the locality was reached. It was a large, pretty white villa, with painted glass borders surrounding its windows, and it stood in the midst of a spacious lawn dotted with beds of bright flowers. Walking. round the eravel drive, Lord Acorn rang at the door, which was speedily opened by a man in chocolate-coloured livery. Paar Purtle Kite at home?” “Ves, sir; but he is at dinner; just sat down to it.” “ At dinner!” echoed Lord Acorn. ‘I want to see him very particularly.” ‘Well, sir, Sir Turtle does not much like to be disturbed at his dinner,” hesitated the man. “Perhaps you could wait ?—or call again?” ‘Took here,” said Lord Acorn, hunting in his pocket for his card- case, a bright idea seizing him, ‘‘ you shall ask Sir Turtle to allow me to go into the dining-room to him, and I'll say the few words I have to say while he dines. I suppose he 1s alone? I won't disturb him from it. Hang it!” muttered his lordship, finding he had not his card-case with him. ‘“‘ You must take in my name: Lord Acorn.” This colloquy took place in the hall. At that moment another serving man came out of the dining-room—his master wanted to know what the stir was. Lord Acorn caught a glimpse of a well-spread table, and of a round good-humoured face above it. ‘Announce me,” he rapidly said: and the servant did so. : “Lord Acorn.” | Up rose Sir Turtle, his beaming countenance looking its surprise, his napkin tucked into his uppermost button-hole. Lord Acorn, a fascinating-mannered man as any living, entered upon his courtly apology, his short explanation, and offered his hand. In two minutes his lordship was seated at the dinner-table, regaling himself with real turtle soup, served out of a silver tureen; he and his host laughing and talking together as freely as though they were friends of years. ‘It is so very good of you to ask me to partake of your dinner in this impromptu way, Sir Turtle,” remarked his lordship. ‘I should have lost mine. We were to have dined—I and my wife—with the VOL. XXXII, : H GOMIIGDOOkSs (S©)