The Argosy — page 175: what you’re looking at

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

160 A Shower of Daffodils. “You be too late, miss,” she said. ‘You be his daughter, I reckon. He died at 8 o’clock; an hour and a half agone.” ‘“T left the station at 8 o’clock,” cried Evelyn, turning from beside the bed, where she was now standing. ‘‘Oh, why did he not send before? JI came as soon as I heard it; as soon as I could come.” ‘The illness was pretty sudden, you see; ’twas only a day or two ago that danger was thought of. And I don’t see how you can have got here at all,” the woman went on, with a look of perplexity. “The floods are out.” Evelyn had covered her face with her hands, weeping bitterly. “He got restless and anxious,” continued the old servant, ‘‘ after the doctor, when he paid his last visit early in the evening, said the waters were out, and that nobody must attempt to cross from Marsh- lands Station, for if they did they’d never get here alive. Dreadful restless for an hour or two, he was,” she added, glancing round at the bed. ‘‘ But he went off very peaceful at the last.” And there was a peaceful look on the dead face after all, and Evelyn reverently covered it with a feeling that it was well with him. Then Evelyn allowed the good old woman to give her dry clothes and refreshments. But she heard little of her conversation, except that the gentleman had bought the land on which this cottage stood, and was living in it while he built himself a suitable house. He had not very long come from Africa, so the woman understood. But, seeing the girl’s weariness, she prepared a bed for her; and Evelyn, utterly exhausted, slept. The following March, Evelyn and Philip Hartley, now man and wife, wandered in the green meadows, near the sea shore of a cer- tain fishing village. Research and pleasure had combined to bring them here. They had been married soon after Evelyn’s strange adventure. Mr. Hamilton had wished to explain what his adopted child would have learnt had she not been too late. But Mr. Hartley had begged him to tell nothing. Evelyn added her entreaties to his ; and nothing was told, except that the African ring had belonged to her father, and that he had seen her by arrangement at St. Albans. As the young couple walked, they came suddenly upon a bank of daffodils. The flowers recalled their first meeting. ‘“‘ Evelyn,” said her husband, tenderly, ‘‘ the daffodil is like no other flower to me. As I see you, and know you are my own, I can scarcely believe my good fortune: ‘“« And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.’ ’’ JEANIE GWYNNE BETTANY. CORMICLMOOOKS.(E@)