The Argosy — page 161: what you’re looking at

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

146 Valentina. up the road, beyond the village, were some nursery grounds, and upon them a great big glass hot-house filled with rare flowers, and also a compact, pretty dwelling-house. It was all the property of Adam Drake. He had gone out when a little boy to help to weed in a gentleman’s garden under the head gardener, James Moon, and by dint of unflagging industry and good conduct had worked his way up in the world—which is the very best way of all ways to get up in it. He did a good trade with High Marten in his hot-house flowers, and took in every morning to the hotel there, and to one or two of the rich families, some of his fruit and choice vegetables; bringing back in his empty cart parcels for Little Marten if anyone wanted to send them. It had grown into quite a carrying trade long ago, and he had earned the soubriquet of Drake the Carrier. Thus Adam Drake, now about six-and-thirty, was prospering in life. He was a genial, kindly-natured man, always ready to do a good turn. Many a little basket of strawberries or nectarines had he taken to the room of one who was sick and poor, many a plate of fresh green peas. Early and late he was at his work at home ; and now that he could keep a man or two to help him, he did not himself often go with the cart to High Marten. When he did go he delivered the pots and the peas on his way there, and the parcels coming back, with his own good hands, just as though he had not a halfpenny in the bank. All the world liked Adam Drake. ‘The women reproached him for not getting married, asking if he meant to grow into an old bachelor. Drake answered them that he had no time to think of a wife; and the men, with intense earnestness, said, ‘* So much the better.” Now it was at Adam Drake that Miss Miranda was privately setting her cap. And tothis end she invented no end of commissions for High Marten ; parcels, small or large, which he had to bring back and deliver. When the deliverer was himself, Miss Miranda took care to be the recipient in person. Meanwhile the wind, which rattled the casements on this fine spring day and fluttered the grey cloak, was bringing a change as the hours went on; the weather from fine became comfortless. Snowflakes began to whirl down from the sky, and speedily whitened the road and the tender young grass; and when Jessy got back home her cloak was white too. As she put the key into the door, Valentina called out her welcome. ‘Come in, come in! MHere you are, take a chair. Give a nut to Valentina.” Valentina meant a biscuit; but she called all good things nuts. Jessy took no notice of her as yet. She carefully put down her basket, stamped the snow off her shoes, took off her cloak and shook it, shook her bonnet, and then set light to the stove. It was a small stove, with a cheerful, open fire. “Ves, I hear you,” said Jessy, for Valentina did not cease her demands. ‘You must wait a bit, my bird.” ECORMICLOIOOKS, (Ee) m