The Argosy — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

260 MY SATURDAYS. CYPRUS LAWN. Ie “] He first question is—how came I to have Saturdays? No; perhaps there is a prior question—who am I that have them P Let me introduce myself as briefly as possible. Vera Singleton, widow, no children, age of no importance, circumstances comfortable, resident at Tamston. ‘That is quite as much, I think, as I need say about myself, before I go back to the very primal origin of my Saturdays. One chilly May afternoon, when Charlotte Stamwood (our Rector’s second daughter) and Lucilla Minton (daughter of the Honourable Mrs. Minton) were drinking my tea, and plotting against my peace. Charlotte had sat down on the rug in front of a little bit of fire—for the afternoon was rather rainy and chilly, and I don’t block up my grates by the almanack—and began artfully : ‘Tt zs so nice and cheerful to see a fire again, when everybody is trying so hard to believe that it 1s spring, and failing so miserably in the attempt. That is one of your strong points, Mrs. Singleton ; you always see what is wanted, and go straight and do it, whether it happens to be de rigueur or not.” ‘“‘Mrs. Singleton loves to make everyone happy, in great things and small,” chimed in Lucilla. “Girls,” I said, ‘this is too much. Something is coming upon me; I know the symptoms.” ‘* And do you meanly shrink?” answered Charlotte, magnificently. “Do not all gifts bring responsibilities? If you have an original mind, ought you not to do original things? If you have a benevolent heart, will you not seek the happiness of your fellow- creatures? If you have a charming house, will you not open its doors? And if you have a delightful garden, going down to the river, and a lawn big enough for tennis—will you not—oh, dear, Mrs. Singleton, do—give garden-parties in summer ? ” Charlotte twisted herself round at the end of her pathetic appeal, _ and knelt at my feet, with a comical expression of entreaty; and Lucilla dropped down beside her, and joined in her supplications. ‘Seriously, you might do a great deal of good,” continued Char- lotte. ‘Society in Tamston is so horribly clique-ish, and numbers of people don’t know each other who would really get on well, if they only put aside their nonsense for once, and found out their links in- stead of looking at their fences. You could ask people together in that informal way whom you could not invite to meet each other at dinner, and as you have always kept out of those tangles, you are in a position to do it.” ECOPMICLIOO|KS,EO