The Argosy — page 221: what you’re looking at

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

204 Caramel Cottage. compel her to sit or walk in the garden; Katrine would turn sick and faint at sight of that plot of ground under the apple-tree and the winter greens growing there. At moments she thought her father must suspect the source of her illness; but he gave no sign of it. Since Captain Amphlett’s visit, no further enquiry had been made after Edgar Reste. Katrine lived in daily dread of it. Now and then the neighbours would ask after him. Duffham had said one day in the course of conversation: ‘‘ Where’s that young Reste now?” ‘ Oh, in London, working on for his silk gown,” Mr. Barbary lightly an- swered. Katrine marvelled at his coolness. Upon getting back to the Manor for Christmas we heard that Mr. Barbary was quitting Church Dykely for Canada. ‘ And the voyage will either kill or cure the child,” said Duffham, for it was he who gave us the news; “she is in a frightfully weak state.” “Ts it ague still?” asked Mrs. Todhetley. “Tt is more like nerves than ague,” answered Duffham. ‘She seems to live in a chronic state of fear, starting and shrinking at every unexpected sound. Ican’t make her out, and that’s the truth; she denies having received any shock.—So you have never found Don, Squire!” he broke off, leaving the other subject. “No,” said the Squire angrily. ‘‘ Dick Standish has been too much for us this time. The fellow wants hanging. Give him rope enough, and he'll do it.” Brazer’s dog was returned to him, safe and sound, but our dog had never come back to us, and the Squire was looking out for another. Dick Standish protested his innocence yet; but he had gone roving the country with that other dog, and no doubt had sold Don to somebody at a safe distance. Perhaps had dyed him a fine gold first, as the dyer dyed his dog at Evesham. ‘Now, Miss Katrine, there’s not a bit of sense in it!” It was Christmas Eve. Katrine was sitting at dusk by the parlour fire, and Joan was scolding. She had brought in a tray of tea with some bread-and-butter ; Katrine was glad enough of the tea, but said she could not eat ; she always said so now. “ Be whipped if I can tell what has got into the child!” stormed Joan. ‘*Do you want to starve yourself right out ?—do you want to ae ‘“There’s papa,” interrupted Katrine, as the house door was heard to open. ‘You must bring in more tea now, Joan.” This door opened next, and someone stood looking in. Not Mr. Barbary. Katrine gazed with dilating eyes, as the fire-light flickered on the intruder’s face; and then she seized hold of Joan with an awful cry. For he who had come in bore the semblance of Edgar Reste. ‘Why, Katrine, my dear, have you been ill ?” Katrine burst into hysterical tears as her terror passed. She had GOMIGIOOKS (EO) m