The Argosy — page 356: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Valeria. 335 The congregation, four in number, two old men, a girl, and a widow in rusty crape, stood in a respectful semi-circle around, while Roswal stretched across the doorway, jealously insisted that his mistress’s privacy should be respected. His looks were quite sufficient, though a boy’s cap between his paws, and a chewed bit of broomstick looked as though an example had been made of somebody. Across the churchyard old Totterdale was seen approaching with a big bewildered policeman in tow, who looked as if the job were quite out of his line, while a hatless little boy gyrated wildly around. Hester comprehended, explained, apologised, made Roswal give a paw to one of the old men, pacified old Totterdale, restored the cap with a shilling inside to the owner, and satisfied the policeman. She felt as if some of her troubles had melted in the telling, and tripped back to her carriage with a lighter heart. Once there and alone with Roswal, the cloud descended again even more blackly. Cuss knew it, and laid a heavy paw in her lap, with wistful eyes fixed on her face. ‘“‘ Did you believe her, Cuss? Do you think it likely that he would go to her, and forget about you and me, old dog ?” C THVAYP ? BRET A DEAD FLOWER, MAKING his way to the orderly-room on the morning of that self-same day, Edric nad become aware of a young fellow advancing towards him with a comically conscious air that made him vaguely wonder who he was, and stop to look at him as he saluted. The lad stopped, too, as though rather expecting to be spoken to. Another time Edric might not have bestowed a second glance on him. But just then hismind happened to be running on the events of that night week—Mrs. Damien’s guests—Hester and Sir John—Elsie Paramount, with her wistful eyes and timid little question—‘“‘I want to know—how to get into the army”—and he laughed kindly to himself at the recollection. It was the brother himself—the performer in the Septett—who stood before him, he realised suddenly, with a faint touch of consternation. ‘“Why—are you young Paramount ?” “Yes, sir,” severely repressing his delight at being recognised. ‘* And what are you doing here ?” ‘* Just been to the Colonel, sir. I came down on Saturday night.” ‘“What? You’ve enlisted? What made you do such a thing ?” fdric demanded, discouragingly. “TI beg your pardon, sir, but it’s what I feel most fit for.” “Well, you know best yourself. I’ve heard you haven’t done much good in any other line.” Sampson shifted his feet uneasily, and his mouth, curiously COMIC OOO (GO) im