The Argosy — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Valeria. QI the post-office. Any woman with her wits about her could have done as much.” “ But wy did she follow me?” ‘* Ah! that’s the real puzzle of the whole, and I give it up. You will know when you hear from her again. I hope you will tell me the end.” “Of course. Only please don’t mention it to Mrs. Damien. I feel somehow responsible for bringing her and that woman together, and it has troubled me more than I can tell you. How could she know Mrs. Damien existed ?” ““Oh, Rose knows all sorts of queer people at St. Fridolin’s. [I wouldn’t distress myselfabout that. You'll find most likely that you'll be called upon to pay two pounds twelve and sixpence, the exact sum required to prevent a sick husband and five starving children from being turned into the street. Or she'll want you to buy some new patent toothpick or beetle-destroyer, or cigar-holder—a reduction on taking a quantity—or four large oil-paintings, the last works of her defunct husband. Why, my dear—” Hester stopped in full swing, blushing furiously. ‘I beg your pardon. I really forgot for a moment that I was not giving Daddy the benefit of my knowledge of the world’s pitfalls.” Edric smiled pleasantly. ‘‘' Thank you very much. We shall meet on Monday, shall we not? I will tell you the end of my adventure if i ever arrive at it. Good bye.” ‘Good bye,” said Hester, with downcast eyes and a grave shake of the hand. Roswal looked up, as if to say, “‘I’ve heard that remark three times before. Does he vea//y mean going at last ?” and finding Edric actually departing, saw him politely off the premises and returned to the studio. There, to his surprise, his usually dignified little mistress dropped on the floor beside him, and giving him a passionate hug, cried, with her eyes hidden in the thick, soft wrinkles of his neck: ‘‘Oh Cuss! dear, dear old Cuss! Never tell anybody how foolish I looked just now. Wasn’t it nice of him not to laugh too much? Cuss, I hope he'll get into no scrape. Shouldn’t you like to go and take care of him? And oh, Cuss, won’t it be nice to see him again next Monday ?” Edric caught his train, well satisfied with his afternoon’s work. He found two other officers from Shorncliffe in his carriage. “Heard the news, Poynter?” asked one of them, his great friend, Major Carroll. ‘ We’re off at last.” “Off? When? Where?” “Next week, perhaps. ‘To Portsmouth.” “Next week? Oh, come! Who started that shave?” asked he, with a dismal attempt to look sceptical. “T didn’t. And it isn’t a shave. Not at all. Doudney knows all about it. He always does. Cabinet ministers invariably confide in Doudney, don’t you know. Portsmouth means Egypt, and Egypt means fighting. Vow don’t you see?” COMIC OOO SS) (CO)