The Argosy — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

10 Winifred Power. at the sight of trouble, even though the sorrowful one was the grimiest of maidens that had ever scrubbed a doorstep. ‘“‘Tt’s the missis, ma’am, She’s in a faint. I thought you might have bin the doctor.” ‘‘ Has a doctor not been ?” ‘“No, ma’am, but he has sent to say he is coming. He’s witha little boy in the Linden-Grove Road, who has got convulsions.” Martha, arriving upstairs, found the patient surrounded by her hus- band and one or two friendly female neighbours, who had resorted to such remedies as their simple science suggested. When the doctor presently made his appearance, Mrs. Parsons was quite sensible again, although so pale and exhausted that he feared a second attack. He recommended absolute quiet; and glanced analytically at the by- standers, with a view of discovering who among them was most likely to enforce the execution of his orders. ‘“‘ You had better stay with her,” he said, addressing Miss Freake. ‘“ Can-you?” “For a few hours,” she replied, making up her mind to the loss of her afternoon. “That’s right. Then I will return in an hour or two, Should there be a relapse, and you want me in a hurry, you will most likely find me close by in Linden-Grove Road, No. 14. I have a bad case there, which requires watching.” As the illness of Mrs. Parsons has very little to do with our story, we may merely state that she had no second attack, and that about four o’clock Martha was able to leave her. Her husband, grateful to the little woman for her attention to the invalid, very quickly and liberally transacted the business of the ring, and Martha found herself the possessor of 4, 10 and a pawn-ticket. Greatly pleased with the success of her enterprise, she bid the sick woman good-bye, said a few kind words to everybody, and started forth bravely through the fog and drizzle for the Red Cap. Her shortest way lay through Linden-Grove Road, and passing down that street, her tender heart reminded her of the little boy who, as the doctor had said, was so very ill. She began to wonder how he was, and peered about for No. 14. Not that she meant to go there, but she felt an interest in the house, knowing that a child’s laughter had been hushed within its walls, and that sickness had stayed the busy tread of little feet and laid low a tiny head. ‘‘ This must be No. 14,” thought Martha, blinking through the mist. Yes—and surely that was the doctor who had just clinked open the garden- gate. He was coming away from a visit to his patient. She might give him news of Parsons, and ask him if the little boy were better. She stopped at the gate with this intention. But the doctor did not notice her in the uncertain light, for he was speaking to a gentle- man behind him. COMMmicoooxs. con