The Argosy — page 370: what you’re looking at

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

Aunt Paradox. 349 and we suppose he destroyed it. Therefore the old one is to be proved, under which you take your five hundred a year.” Mrs. Paradox smiled softly and then heaved a sigh, as if the news relieved her of some heavy pain. All the sweetly insinuating manner of the by-gone days came up again. ‘Well, it is good of you to bring me the news, Richard, and I thank you, though you did come in by the kitchen-door. Did I take the same annuity under the last will P” “No. I believe your name was not mentioned in the last will, aunt. Mr. Stephon made it, and he will no doubt give you all par- ticulars if you wish.” “Oh, I don’t wish it, thank you. The will does not exist, so it’s no matter what was in it. Are you returning to London to-day ?” “No. We are going to take the benefit of the country air for a few days. We shall stay at the ‘Plough.’ I wrote to the landlord yesterday. Is Arminia well, aunt ?—and grown up into a beauty, as you used to predict ?” “Beautiful is hardly the name for her,” returned Mrs. Paradox ; ‘¢ Arminia is more than beautiful. She will be at home this evening. She goes to the Ladies’ College here by day, just for accomplish- ments.” “And you go also, I presume, Mary ?” Mary Damer coloured, hesitated, and looked at Mrs. Paradox. “JT have not sent Mary this term,” said that lady. ‘“ And really she does not need it. She will never be clever at music, and her drawing she does at home. Will you take any refreshment ?—and you, Mr. Ryde?” They both declined, and left, promising to call later in the day. Arm-in-arm, they strolled towards the Plough. © ‘‘She’s an old cat,” remarked Richard, with suavity. ‘‘ She has a good income paid her with my sister, and fockets it—except just what goes in the child’s meat and drink. I can see.” “And puts her to scrape asparagus and shell peas,” laughed George Ryde. ‘ But I say, old fellow, how came you to talk of your sister as a child ?” ‘What else do you call her ?” “T should call her a young woman; and a very charming one too. How old is she ?” “How old? Oh, sixteen, I suppose.” ‘“‘ And the rest of it.” ‘The rest? let me see. Mary is nine years younger than I am, and I am twenty-seven. Why, if I don’t believe the child must be eighteen. Eighteen next July. How time passes!” They settled themselves comfortably at the Plough, an old- fashioned, sleepy village inn now, but one of some note in the old posting days. Towards evening they went out to call again upon COMICOOOKS.€