The Argosy — page 223: what you’re looking at

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

208 Roger Bevere. told her she might come yesterday, Miss Tottams, my lady permitting it, but I did not tell her she might come to-day.” I glanced at Roger. His knife and fork shook in his hands; his face wore the hue of the grave. I was little less agitated than he. Another respite. It was only a parcel from the railway station, which had been delayed in the delivery. And the dinner went on. And the evening went on too, as the past one went on—undisturbed. Later, when some of us were playing at snap-dragon in the little break- fast-room, Harriet came in to march Miss Tottams off to bed. ‘Your sister did not come after all, did she, Harriet ?” said Mary. ‘“ No, Miss Mary. She’s gone back to London,” continued Harriet, after a pause. ‘' Not enough life for her, I daresay, down here.” Roger glanced round. He did not dare ask whether Harriet knew she was gone back, or only supposed it. Mary laughed. ‘Fond of life, is she?” ‘She always was, Miss Mary. She is married toa gentleman. At least, that is her account of him: he is a medical man, she says. But it may be he is only a medical man’s assistant.” ‘“‘Did she go back yesterday, or to-day ?” I enquired, carelessly. ‘She would have a cold journey.” ‘Yesterday, if she’s gone at all, sir,’ replied Harriet: ‘she'd hardly travel on Christmas Day. If not, she'll be here to-morrow.” Roger groaned—and turned it off with a desperate cough, as though the raisins burnt his throat. Til, THE next day came, Wednesday, again clear, cold, and bright. At breakfast George and Mary agreed to walk to Brighton. “You will come too,” said George, looking at us. I said nothing. Roger shook his head. Of all places in the known world he'd not have ventured into Brighton, and run the risk of meeting fer, perambulating its streets. “ No !—why it will be a glorious walk,” remonstrated George. “Don’t care for it this morning,” shortly answered Roger. “I’m sure Johnny doesn’t.” Mr. Brandon came, if I may so put it, to the rescue. “TI shall take a walk myself, and you two may go with me,” said he to us. ** T should like to see what the country looks like yonder ”—pointing to the unknown regions beyond the little church. And as this was just in the opposite direction to Brighton, Roger made no objection, and we set off soon after breakfast. The sky overhead was blue and clear, the snow on the ground dazzlingly white. The regions beyond the church were the same as these: a long- stretched-out moor of flat dreariness) Mr. Brandon walked on. ‘‘We shall come to something or other in time,” said he. Walking with him meant walking when he was in the mood for it. Eomichbooks. cor