The Argosy — page 43: what you’re looking at

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32 Roger Bevere. about him—his health—and—and all,” she added in a lowered voice. ‘Tam always fearing lest I did not do my duty by my boys. Not but that I ever tried to do it; but somehow I feel that perhaps I might have done it better. Altogether I am full of anxiety for Roger.” ‘“‘T will be sure to write to you regularly as long as I am near him, dear Lady Bevere.” i Ir was on a Tuesday morning that Lady Bevere and Mr. Brandon left London. In the afternoon Roger was installed in his new lodgings by Mr. Pitt, who had undertaken to see him into them. He had the parlour and the bed-chamber behind it. Very nice rooms they were, the locality and street open and airy; and the landlady, Mrs. Long, was a comfortable, motherly woman. Where his old lodgings had been situated, he had never said, even to me: the Squire’s opinion was (communicated in confidence to Mr. Brandon), that he had played up ‘‘ Old Gooseberry ” in them, and was afraid to say. I had meant to go to him on the Wednesday, to see that the bustle of removal had done him no harm ; but Miss Deveen wanted me, so I could not. On the Thursday I got a letter from the Squire, telling me to do some business for him at Westminster. It took me the whole of the day: that is, the actual business took about a quarter of an hour, and waiting to see the people (lawyers) took the rest. This brought it, you perceive, to Friday. On that morning I mounted to the roof of a city omnibus, which set me down not far off the house. Passing the parlour windows to knock at the door, I saw in one of them acard: “Apartments to let.” It was odd, I thought, they should put it in a room that was occupied. ‘‘Can I see Mr. Bevere?” I asked of the servant. ‘Mr. Bevere’s gone, sir.” ‘Gone where ? Not to the hospital ?””—For he was not to attempt to go there until the following week. ‘He is gone for good, sir,” she answered. ‘ He went away ina cab yesterday evening.” Not knowing what to make of this strange news, hardly believing it, I went into the parlour and asked to see the landlady—who came at once. It was quite true: Bevere had left. Mrs. Long, an elderly woman, plump and kindly, sat down to relate the particulars. ‘‘Mr. Bevere went out yesterday morning, sir, after ordering his dinner—a roast fowl—for the same hour as the day before; two o’clock. It was past three, though, before he came in: and when the girl brought the dinner-tray down, she said Mr. Bevere wanted to speak to me. I came up, and then he told me he was unexpectedly obliged to leave—that he might have to go into the country that Gomicbooks.com