The Argosy — page 226: what you’re looking at

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

Winntfred Dee. 255 hearted man, who drove his gig, with a head to it for wet weather, and who was a widower with one little girl, and fairly well-off apart from his practice. He was all the rage. Young ladies set their ribbons at him, middle-aged maidens and widows regarded him as peculiarly their own, for was he not approaching his fortieth year, and who could be so suitable as a lady of his own age to be made the second Mrs. Probert. And when it became known that he had taken to frequent Miss Dee’s shop, indignation abounded. ‘‘ What an extraordinary person she must be to allow it!” cried Miss Eliza Down. “Quite a creature!” “How is it that Mr. Probert is dancing here perpetually?” demanded an old lady, stern and venomous, one day that she had gone in to order a cap. “My assistant, Martha White, is ill, ma’am,” replied Winnifred. ‘‘T]1!” returned the dame, who had three single daughters who had left their teens behind them for many a year. ‘‘ Why, I see her sitting there at work,” pointing to the inner room. “Ves, she is getting better, but her cough and chest are very bad still. Mr. Probert is anxious about her.” ‘«‘ Anyway, she looks well enough to me,” retorted the ungracious dame. ‘‘ And let me see some other sort of net; I don’t like this flimsy stuff.” | Martha White recovered, and time went on; but Mr. Probert did not give up his objectionable habit of running in and out of Miss Dee’s shop. Jemima Raddle, daughter of the late Major Raddle, who lived in the rooms over the stationer’s shop opposite, upon a very small income, declared she had known him stay talking to Miss Dee for ten minutes at a stretch, which she considered most reprehensible. ‘That Winnie Dee! Matters were in this uncomfortable state on this summer’s day ; this warm, still, bright Sunday, when the sun shone and the skies were blue, and the congregation was on its way to church. Mr. Probert had shaken hands with Winnie Dee in the eyes and face of all the street, and was now walking by her side. Mrs. Thompson, looking on, would have liked to hurl a stone at her; the Miss Downs felt fit to faint. ‘‘So disgraceful,” they murmured; “so disgraceful.” The curious part of it was that the poor young girl, innocent and inoffensive, had not yet gathered the smallest knowledge of the commotion that the public had set up, or was aware that she was losing favour. ‘True, she had lately noticed that some ladies, when they came in, were not so free and pleasant with her as they used te be; but she never supposed the fault could lie in herself, or that she had given any sort of offence. She walked down the street now by the Doctor’s side, her pretty face turned to him in conversation, the rose pink on her cheeks rather deeper than usual, from the haste she had made in getting ready. She had had a hard week’s work, and had sat up late at night to get it done. New bonnets had been CONNICMOOKS. Com