The Argosy — page 217: what you’re looking at

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

202 Roger Bevere. “Yes, ma’am,” said Jacob. “Lady Beveer’s, I think. ‘“ That’s near enough,” returned Jacob, familiar with the eccen- tricities of pronunciation accorded to the name. ‘* What did you please to want ?” “JT want Miss Field.” ‘Miss Field!” echoed the old man. ‘‘ Harriet Field. She lives here, don’t she? Id like to see her.” ‘*Q—Harriet! I’ll send her out,” said he, turning away. The more I heard of the voice, the greater grew my dismay. Surely it was that of Roger’s wife! Was it really she that Scott had seen at the station? Had she come after Roger? Did she know he was here? I stood back amid the sheltering laurels, hardly daring to breathe. Waiting there, she began a little dance, or shuffle of the feet, perhaps to warm herself, and broke into a verse of agay song. ‘‘As I live, she’s not sober!” was the fear that flashed across me. Harriet, her things still on, just as she came in from church, came swiftly to the gate. ‘‘ Well, Harriet, how are you?” ‘Why, Lizzie!—it’s never you !” exclaimed Harriet, after an amazed ‘stare at the visitor. . “Yes, it’s me. I thought I’d come over and see you. That old man was polite though, to leave me standing here.” ‘But where have you come from? And why are you so late?” ‘‘ Oh, I’m staying at Brighton ; came down on the spree yesterday. I’m late because I lost my way on this precious moor—or whatever it calls itself—and got a mile, or so, too far. When the snow came on —and ain’t it getting deep !—-I turned into a house to shelter a bit, and here I am. A man that was coming out of church yonder directed me to the place here.” She must have been at The Sheaf o’ Corn. What it she had chanced to ask the route of me / ‘‘You got my letter, then, telling you I had left my old piact at Worthing, and taken service here,” said Harriet. “T got it safe enough; it was directed to the Bell-and-Clapper room,” returned Lizzie. ‘‘ What a stick of a hand you do write !—I couldn’t decipher whether your new mistress was Lady Beveen ‘or Lady Beveer. I had thought you never meant to write to me again.” ‘‘ Well, you know, Lizzie, that quarrel between us years back, after father and mother died, was a bitter one; but I’m sure I don’t want to be anything but friendly for the future. You haven’t written, either, I never had but that one letter from you, telling me you had got married and that he was a gentleman.” ** And you wrote back asking whether it was true, or whether I had jumped over the broomstick,” retorted Lizzie, with a laugh, You always liked to be polite to me, Harriet.” ) ‘Do you ever see Uncle Dyke up in London, Lizzie?” Eomichooks.¢co