The Argosy — page 299: what you’re looking at

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

280 Only a Year or Two Ago. before the fire, his shapely boots stretched out on the fender, and his left hand, on which shone a diamond ring, lifted to stroke his fair moustache. “Oh it is you, Mr. Brown,”’—sitting back a little and letting his hand drop. ‘‘ Do you want anything ?” Mr. Brown shut the door, and answered that he had come to speak about young Lavender ; thought perhaps it lay in his duty to do so before the young fellow died at his post, for that, he absolutely believed, might be the ending of it. And he proceeded to tell of the signs of decay he had observed for some time now, and which got more marked day by day. “Very sorry,” replied Mr. Charles Coingold—his name was Charles too. ‘‘He had better take a rest. It is awful weather for anybody to get to and fro in.” Not that Mr. Charles Coingold spoke from personal experience: he came to the city each morning in his father’s comfortable brougham, and returned in it at evening. “ Rest will be his only chance, sir. And I don’t much think it will serve him,” candidly added Mr. Brown. ‘“ He has one foot in the grave already, unless I am mistaken.” “Very sad. What is the disorder ? ” ‘Consumption, I fancy, sir. It is what his father died of.” Send him to me, Mr. Brown. [I'll speak to him.” Mr. Brown found Charles up to his ears with some desk work, on his return below stairs. ‘That despatched, he sent him to the private room. Mr. Charles Coingold, who was then standing with his back to the fire trimming his nails, and knew Charles by sight, was shocked at the shadow that presented itself. ‘Why—dear me !—you look very ill, Mr. Lavender!” he ex- claimed, closing his penknife and dropping it into his pocket. ‘‘T am not quite well, sir; that is, I don’t feel very strong just now ; this bad winter has tried me. I shall pick up when the warm weather comes in,” added Charles. ‘Tt has been a bad winter,” heartily assented his master. ‘‘ And those omnibuses are draughty things for you, full of damp passengers and dripping umbrellas.” “T generally walk,” replied Charles, trying to suppress his cough for a bit. “ Walk! What, all the way? Morning and night ?” The young man’s transparent face—it had looked so latterly—took a tinge of sensitive colour. ‘The omnibuses are generally full inside ; and I think I am better walking than sitting on the roof in the wind and rain,” he answered. But Mr. Charles Coingold, who was quick of apprehension, understood the true reason. ‘Mr. Brown has been speaking of you,” he said ; “ he thinks you are hardly strong enough for your work just at present, and that a rest a “Are you going to turn me away, sir?” interrupted Charles, in dismay and mental pain. CORNICLOOOKS EC)