The Argosy — page 262: what you’re looking at

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

Wintfred Power. 243 and also his handsome house near Marleyford, and bought this place, “The Limes,” at Elmsleigh. ‘Then he engaged in railway specula- tions to a large degree ; gained money upon money, applause, and the honour of knighthood. “ He is like aking,” said the admiring world ; ‘everything he touches turns to gold.” But he had his peculiarities. Mrs. Fane and Winifred went to The Limes through the afternoon sunshine. Dolly met them in the hall. “Hush! hush!” cried she. * Hush!” added Flossie, coming forward. ‘“‘What is the matter?” inquired Winifred, very much astonished. ‘“‘'You are passing the library,” whispered Dolly. ‘‘ Uncle John is resting. His heart, you know,” she explained as she led the way to the drawing-room. Winifred then remembered that Sir John suffered from disease of the heart and was supposed to be living in a critical state. On entering the room they found Mrs. Hatherley smothered in shawls in the depths of an arm-chair. She rose languidly, extended a tiny, listless hand and got as far as the first word of ‘“‘ How do you do,” after which she sank back again. ‘And your cousin Mark ?” said Mrs. Fane, with sweet inquiry. ‘He is out,” answered Dolly. ) ““ Gone to town, I think,” said her sister. A faint shadow of annoyance crossed Mrs. Fane’s pretty face, but she said with undiminished feeling, ‘‘ And dear Sir John is unwell ?” “‘ His heart, you know,” began the sisters together, when suddenly Mrs. Hatherley interrupted them. ‘* He eat too much pheasant-salmi yesterday,” she remarked ina drawling monotone. At this unexpected observation Winifred ab- solutely started and glanced at the speaker with a new curiosity. But the pale little face above the bundle of shawls was totally impas- sive. Mrs. Fane looked unmistakably indignant at the remark, and said that invalids were greatly to be pitied. ‘Dear Uncle Hatherley suffers terribly. And, as he always tells us, any agitation might kill him,” said the elder of the sisters. “The /eas¢ agitation,” repeated Florence. And both spoke in such evident good faith that Winifred smiled on them with her bright sympathy, saying kindly: ‘I dare say he owes much of his ease to your nursing.” “Who would not willingly nurse such a sufferer!” chimed in Mrs. Fane. “I am sure I would sit up night after night: although, with my anxious temperament, I am aware that I should pay dearly for it.” : At this amiable outburst it must be confessed that Winifred rather stared. Mrs. Fane had had plenty of opportunities of nursing her brother Walter, but she had certainly never availed herself of them. “And are you very fond of nursing also?” suddenly said Mrs. Hatherley to Winifred, lifting her head from her wraps. » CON @) LNOOKS.,.EO©