The Argosy — page 164: what you’re looking at

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

The Invalids’ Corner. 149 sunshine, and was drifting out to sea, where the fishing-boats were dashing past under the fresh breeze, as if in a hurry to make up for lost time. When the pony was unharnessed, the Major’s servant said : “T must put you a bit further back, sir. These cliffs are like powder, and give directly there’s any rain. You might have a nasty fall; for see, sir, the pony’s feet have gone right into the mire at the edge.” And so saying, he pushed the chair back into the pine trees and left with the pony, while the Major lay back much inclined to abuse everything, from last night’s rain and storm to to-day’s sunshine, that seemed to keep everyone in-doors. It was one of those days when everything seems to go wrong at once: newspapers were late, owing to Christmas; letters were delayed, too; and those that had been delivered were of such a contrary nature that they seemed to make everything even worse than was necessary. The Major had not slept, owing to the storm; and in consequence of his sleepless night felt so ill that he made up his mind he should never walk again, and might as well make his will, and leave a world that had become useless to him, and where he felt he had little enjoyment in store for him. Then he naturally thought of Christmas, and that aggravated him. A lonely Christmas always does aggravate us, somehow. We think regretfully of the crowded hearth at home, and the many other people who are supposed to be enjoying themselves. ‘There 1s always a great expectation of something marvellously delightful at Christmas, what we never quite knew; but we do expect it every year, and every year we feel just as disappointed, as we have done ever since the death of the days when the delight took form in the receipt of a new doll or a top, and too much to eat. The Major had worked himself into a state of savage despair over his different woes, and was almost weeping for sorrow for himself, when he suddenly saw Edith coming towards him. ‘That wretched invalid—as the Major termed poor Mr. Scott—was not with her, and she was walking very slowly, with her mouth set in a determined manner that told anyone who knew her that she had made up her mind to do a disagreeable duty, and that nothing should deter her from doing what she intended. How sweet she looked as she came through the straight, red-stemmed pine-trees, through which the blue sky gleamed and the white clouds seemed to play at hide-and-seek ! Then she came out of the pines, and along the edge of the cliff. In one moment the scene had changed. Her foot slipped on the grassy pine-needles blown down by the storm, she threw up her hands, and disappeared on the edge of the cliff that all at once gave way, and crumbling like a piece of sand, turned to go in an avalanche after her. The Major forgot his illness, forgot everything, save that he loved Edith, and that she was dead; and jumping up from the couch that CoOnniclooolkks (CO)