The Argosy — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Valeria. 15 when the troublous times are over. But as for Hester, his faith in her was strong against the wickedest witch that ever wove a spell. She was perfectly able to take care of herself and, on a pinch, of him too. There was a sense of security, a promise of help and enlightenment in the very air of her neighbourhood, he thought, as he ran lightly up the steps of the Gloucester Road Station and made his way to Sir ohn’s. ' The big, old-fashioned barouche was in waiting at the door, he perceived, and hastened his steps. Lady Archdale’s plumy bonnet was nodding inside, and the horses were stamping and tossing their heads impatiently. Hester was standing on the doorstep, racquet in hand, adjusting her long chamois leather glove, waiting to see her parents depart before crossing to the square gardens ; and Sir John was trotting in and out in chase of a dozen after-thoughts, with constant appeals to ‘‘ Hetty” and parenthetic apologies to his wife. ‘Then remember, when Rigsby’s cart calls that case is to go back. Really very sorry to detain you, Amelia! It’s all that old fool Mark- ham’s doing. Why he should have made a point of being out of the way just this minute ——” “Vou sent him yourself, dad. |'Told him to take Roswal out of the way. J’ see to your letters going all right.” ‘Very good, very good. You’re going to play tennis with Jock and Fraulein, eh ?” ‘ Only till Mrs. Holder comes for me. She’s so uncertain it’s a pity to waste the whole afternoon waiting for her.” Miss Hester was in her white tennis flannels with gay red skirts, and a red-lined hat on her pretty brown head. She looked as bright and fresh and sweet as a carnation, Edric thought, as he hurried up to make his presence known. “Ha, Poynter, is that you?” cried Sir John. ‘“* Heard the news, eh ? Let me introduce you to Lady Archdale. Amelia, Mr. Poynter, son of a very old friend of mine. No, he isn’t, either. I’m always forgetting.” Lady Archdale bowed with prim graciousness, then beckoned Hester to her before Edric could do more than interchange a bow. ‘ Hester. You had better go at once to Mrs. Holder’s. Now.” ‘Why, mother! Eunice is sure not to be ready.” ‘ Never mind. I wish it.” | Hester gave a resigned little pout and shrug of her shoulders, and tripped back to the house to deposit racquet and shoes. Edric followed her with his eyes, only giving half an ear to Sir John’s im- portant news. “Only heard it myself for certain yesterday. I went to the Horse Guards ——” Here Hester tripped out again, and the rest was lost. “You'll get the orders directly, you may rely upon it.” CORNICL@OO SS (CO)