The Argosy — page 166: what you’re looking at

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

Valentina. I5I Miss Miranda strangled a virtuous cough. Do you try them on him P” she asked, grimly. “The wristbands, do you mean? Oh, no.” “I did not mean the wristbands; I meant the—sleeves.”. For she hardly liked to say the shirts, which had been the word on the tip of her tongue, the young woman looked so Open and good. “Good gracious, no. Why I could hardly stretch up to the top of his arm,” laughed Jessy. ‘One does not need to try shirts on, Miss Miranda, as you do gowns. Ann Seabright brought me a pattern ; I only had to measure it.” “It’s come to a pretty pass with Ann Seabright, I should say, it she has to put her master’s making and mending out.” “Old maid! Wretched old maid!” croaked Valentina. “She is too old to see to do it,” said Jessy. “It was she who asked him to let me do them.” _“T should recommend you to be cautious, Jessy Moon. What with receiving men-visitors, and now taking in these—these shirts for one of them, people will 4 ‘‘Meddlesome old maid, meddlesome old maid, meddlesome old maid!” broke out Valentina in a succession of shrieks. « Hang the men, my dear ; don’t trust ’em.” It was getting more than Miss Miranda’s temper could stand. * Miserable infidel!” she retorted, viciously shaking her fringed parasol at the offender. ‘Good evening to you, Jessy Moon. I had always known parrots to be low birds, but was not aware until now that they were limbs of the Evil One” And, without Shaking hands, Miss Miranda made good her escape. “Oh, Susan, such disgraceful things as I’ve got to tell you!” she _ cried, bursting into their parlour. But her voice suddenly calmed down, for she saw Miss Jones, the schoolmistress, standing there, having her measure taken. Miss Jones was going to be married, and had come to order her wedding gown. She and little Peterson, the chemist and druggist, _had been engaged for hopeless ages, and believed they saw their way oo ; i : ; to venture into housekeeping at last. ‘‘What’s the dress to be?” asked Miss Miranda, Valentina and her insults giving place to this new interest. | “I did think of purple lutestring, but your sister here advises cinnamon brown,” replied Miss Jones. “Cinnamon is a good wear- ing colour, as she says, and I know George Peterson likes brown when it has a tender shade upon it. So I will take your advice, Miss Kettaway. And I think I should like the skirt made in tabs; satin bows down the front and a sash behind. And you must be sure to let me have it home not later than this day fortnight.” COMIC OOO (CO