The Argosy — page 261: what you’re looking at

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

246 Valentine’s Day. she herself was not amusing company ; that Kate never flirted in her aunt’s presence, whatever she did out of it ; that doubtless his duties (strongly emphasized) in the parish required hi3 presence elsewhere ; and fairly drove the poor gentleman out of the house. The next afternoon the Vicar, who was now growing old in deceit, gave Trevor a holiday, despatched him to X— on various pretences, and then went and sat on the railing, where he had first seen Kate, and smoked a pipe and waited. He had resolved that he would fall in love with her if she would let him (rather a gratuitous resolve on his part, seeing he had already done so, we fancy) ; and he was won- dering how long she would consider he ought to cultivate her acquaintance before making any advances of that sort, when her slender figure came slowly down the lane. In another minute he was below, shaking hands with her. “T don’t think I ought to have done this,” said Kate, ‘‘ but as you ~ asked me, you must not think any the worse of me for it; and” — extracting the obnoxious parcel from her pocket—‘‘I have brought you back your very kind present.” “Tone what?” said the astounded Vicar. ‘Brought back the chain and locket,” said Kate. ‘‘I was so sorry you sent it: I have been very silly, but I never gave you the right to send me this.” “But,” said Paul, turning Trevor’s luckless valentine over and over in his hand, ‘*I never sent you anything. Hullo! this box is directed tome. Why! it’s that young scamp Trevor, who sent it you; I gave him the box. How came he to send you a valentine ?” Poor Kate! This was turning the tables upon her with a vengeance. ‘“‘T suppose because I sent him one first,” said she, defiantly. “Well!” returned the Reverend Paul, ‘‘ this is most extraordinary. I suppose you sent it by a messenger. ‘There was only one ‘etter delivered at the Vicarage on Valentine’s Day, and that was for me.” ““Oh!” said Kate, glad to get a chance, however poor, of carrying the war a little into the enemy’s country. ‘Is she good-looking?” “Who ?” said the Vicar, innocently. ‘“Why, the young lady who sent you the valentine, of course.” “‘T haven’t the least idea who sent it. I burnt the envelope without looking at either writing or post-mark. Here it is,” he added, taking a crumpled piece of card from his pocket, and handing it to her. “Why!” said Kate, ‘ that’s the valentine I sent Mr. Trevor.” “Impossible!” cried Paul; ‘‘it was addressed to me.” ‘*No—I am sure this is it. It was addressed, ‘A. T., care of the Rev. P. Vyner.’ You see,” said Katie, “I knew he was at the Vicarage, but I didn’t know his name.” “Tam so sorry,” began the Parson. ‘I quite thought it was ad: dressed to me. Indeed, I hardly looked at it outside at all. It Gomicbooks (elo) m