The Argosy — page 183: what you’re looking at

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

166 Lady Valera. or forty years later in the United States. A needie in a truss of hay was a hopeful quest by comparison. This was the identification of two blades of grass in the whole hay-stack. Nothing to be done but await Lady Valeria’s promised letter; and here at last he turned up his Vicarage steps and unlocked the door. On his hall table lay an unfamiliar cap and stick. He regarded them with scant welcome and entered his study, where he found their proprietor pacing its narrow limits impatiently. He wasa spare, active, elderly man, with a cousinly likeness to the Vicar, half buried in a huge travelling coat, with a Bradshaw in his hand and an open Glad- stone bag on the table beside him. “Arbuthnot Corbett? Of all people! I thought you were at Davos !” ‘“T’ve been there and come home again, as I shall from any place you can mention on the map of Europe. As long as there is nothing to speak of but solid earth between me and this home of my heart, back I come to the dear old smoky chimney-pots as sure as a carrier- pigeon. But the sea—ah, that’s another thing!” He was rummaging in the bag as he spoke and produced a thick blue envelope which he threw across the table to Eustace, still talking beyond possibility of interruption. ‘So I’m off to Liverpool by the next train, and to New York by the ‘Oceanic’ in a fortnight. The doctors have got their will of me at last, you see. That is the last bit of work I am to do for six months at least.” “Tt’s uncommonly good of you I am sure,” Eustace succeeded in saying. ‘‘ Come and have some dinner.” ‘No, thanks. Your good housekeeper has offered all imaginable refreshment. I was afraid I should have to start without seeing you. I’ve just a quarter of an hour longer. You'll find all I have to say written down there. Full instructions how to proceed in tackling the trustees of your Parish charities. It’s a hornet’s nest you have thrust your head into, my man. I’ve taken counsel’s opinion as to the vested rights of your beadle.” Their talk for the next five minutes was purely legal and parochial, and then Arbuthnot Corbett jumped up and began to shut his bag. ‘What are you going to do in America ?” asked his cousin. ‘T haven’t a notion. What zs aman to do who isn’t to meddle with politics, literature, science, anything that makes life worth living ? A twelvemonths’ ‘change of scene and gentle amusement!’ Twelve months’ Death and Burial! ” “Can I get you any introductions ? ” “No, don’t. Ive got a portmanteau fullalready. What’s the good of them? Give me something to do and [ll bless your name for ever.” Eustace started. “If I thought you were in earnest he stopped short. ‘I believe I am possessed by a story I have just PP] CORMICLOOOKS. EO) m