The Argosy — page 138: what you’re looking at

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

————— - — rr ~_— ——— = ~ a to. eo —- i a ol —— A Tragedy. 123 The week since the picnic had not been productive of any particular event, except a little doubt and trouble regarding Dick MacEveril. Mr. Paul was so much annoyed, at Dick’s taking French leave to absent himself from the office that day, that he attacked him with hot words when he entered it on the Friday morning. Dick took it very coolly—old Paul said ‘“‘insolently,” and retorted that he wanted a longer holiday than that, a whole fortnight, and that he must have it. Shortly and sharply Mr. Paul told him he could not have it, unless he chose to have it for good. Dick took him at his word. Catching up his hat and stick, he went out of the office there and then, and had not since appeared at it. Not only that: during the Friday he disappeared also from Islip. Nobody knew for certain whither he had gone, or where he was: unless it might be London. He had made no secret of what he wanted a holiday for. Some young fellow whom he had known in Australia dad recently landed at the docks and was in London, and Dick wanted to go up to see him. Deprived of his friend, and deprived of his heart’s love, Oliver Preen was ina bad case. ‘The news of Emma Paul’s engagement to “fhomas Chandler, and the news that Chandler was to have a share in her father’s business, had been made public ; the speedy marriage was already talked of. No living person saw what havoc it was making of Oliver Preen. Jane found him unnaturally quiet. He would sit by the hour together and never say a word, to her or to anyone else, apparently plunged in what might be either profound scientific cal- culations, or grim despondency. It was as if he had the care of the world upon his mind, and at times there would break from him a sudden, long-drawn sigh. Poor Oliver! Earth’s sunshine had gone out for him with sweet Emma Paul. She had not been faithless, like the Faithless Emma of the song. She had never cared for anyone but Tom Chandler, had never given the smallest encouragement to another. Oliver had only deludéd himself. ‘To his heart, filled and blinded with its impassioned love, her open, pleasing manners had seemed to be a response, and so he had mis- taken her. That was all. But this is sentiment, which the world, having grown enlightened of late years, practically despises ; and we must go on to something more sensible and serious. The answer sent by Mr. Preen to John Paul of Islip, brought forth an answer in its turn. It was to the effect that Mr. Paul had not seen anything of the letter spoken of by Mr. Preen, or of the money it was said to contain. This reached Duck Brook on the Saturday morning.. Mr. Preen, more puzzled this time than angry, could not make it out. ‘‘ Oliver,” said he, ‘‘ which day was it last week that I wrote that letter to Paul of Islip, enclosing a ten-pound note ?” ‘I don’t remember,” carelessly replied Oliver. They had not yet COMmMicoaooks (SO) im