The Argosy — page 228: what you’re looking at

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

Winnifred Dee. 213 “ Do you think her pretty, Alice!” cried Miss Jane Down. “J don’t. She has a good complexion; but her features are no better than other people’s, that I see.” Alice laughed. ‘‘ Mr. Probert thinks they are, I fancy. See! he has joined her ; and IJ saw he came with her to church.” Miss Jane’s face turned of an agreeable lead colour. It was true: Mr. Probert, nodding to one and another, as he passed quickly through the throng, had again halted by the side of that objectionable girl. He walked by her up the street, shook hands with her at her own door, and left her with a pleasant laugh. Nothing less than a bombshell seemed to have fallen on the indig- nant women of Rillbrook as they witnessed it. But one can’t altogether scathe a young woman to death because a middle-aged doctor is seen shaking hands with her in the street, or chatting to her while he changes a book in her little library. The feminine portion of Rillbrook went about with upturned noses and dissatisfied tongues; but they did no worse. And thus the weeks went on, and September came in. One day in that auspicious month of lovely foliage, Miss Down, having received some rents due to her, paid Mr. Probert his account for medical attendance, which had been running for two years. It came to five pounds, and she handed him a bank note for that amount, having first of all placed her initials upon it and noted down its number, Miss Eliza Down being methodical in all her ways. This was on a Thursday. On the afternoon of the following day, Friday, Miss Jane Down called at the milliner’s, to settle for their summer bonnets, and found Miss Dee at work in the lhttle parlour behind. She came forward, trim and neat as usual, and smilingly pretty. “You are all by yourself!” exclaimed Miss Jane, who would have held a gossip with the deuce himself, failing a more eligible party, rather than forego it. ‘‘ Where’s Martha White to-day ?” ‘“T have let her go home for a fortnight,” replied Winnifred. ‘She needed a holiday, poor girl.” “Do you mean to take one yourself? ” Winnifred laughed, showing her pearly teeth. ‘I should like to— oh, so much !—and I have an invitation. But I don’t know.” ‘Who has invited you?” unceremoniously questioned Miss Jane. ‘A cousin of my father’s ; a lady who lives in Cumberland. _ Still, ma’am, I don’t think I can go. There would be the expense, for one thing. Iam not sure, too—and this is my chief difficulty—whether Martha White could manage the business during my absence, or whether I ought to leave her here alone. Mr. Probert wants me to go; he says I ought to.” Miss Jane Down nearly dropped her purse. ‘‘ Who says that, do you say ?” Mr. Probert, ma’am,” CONNICLOOOKS.EO