The Argosy — page 266: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Grace. 247 Cyras bethought himself that his father and the old doctor might not be quite so able to battle with a mob as he, and he looked about for them. A minute’s search and he came upon his father on a doorstep. The Dean had apparently sat down, and was lying back as if he had no life in him. “ Father!” exclaimed Cyras. ‘‘ Father!” Looking closely, Cyras saw that the face was very pale, and that a blue tinge seemed to be drawn in a circlet round the mouth. The Dean gasped once or twice and opened his eyes. ‘““ Have you been hurt, father? Are you ill?” Dr. Baumgarten rose up, with the help of Cyras. ‘‘ No,” said he; ““no, I have not been hurt. It is a fainting-fit that I have now and then ; not often.” | | “A fainting fit!” repeated Cyras, wondering what a tall, fine, strong man, like the Dean, could have to do with fainting-fits. “It’s something of the sort. My breath seems to leave me sud- denly ; I have to fight for it; and then a faintness comes on,” added the Dean, as he walked away, upon the arm of Cyras. Cyras had picked up odds and ends of notions on his travels. “‘T suppose the heart’s all right, father ?” he said. “Oh dear yes,” replied Dr. Baumgarten. ‘‘ What with Denham and Great Whitton and private matters, I think I’m a little over- worked. Sometimes I feel as though I wanted rest ; that’s all, Cyras.” ‘““T should take rest,” observed Cyras. ‘‘'That’s easier said than done, my boy.” “Look here, father: put the Deanery and the other places out to nurse for a few months, and come over with me to New Zealand, when I go back again. It would set you up for the rest of your life ; you’d come back stronger than any parson in the Denham diocese.” ‘““ Hush!” said the Dean, hastily withdrawing his arm from that of Cyras. ‘* There’s Brice.” Mr. Brice, having extricated himself from the crowd, was standing at the end of this quiet street, looking out for them. “It’s a bad fire,” he remarked, unsuspiciously, ‘‘ but we can do no good, and are best away from the fray. And now [’ll wish you good- night ; for my road lies that way, and yours this.” ‘You are sure you will not be able to come to us again in Berkeley Square?” said the Dean, as their hands met and clasped. “Can't,” said Mr. Brice. ‘‘I’m promised to-morrow morning to George and Charlotte at Norwood, and I go down home in the evening. It has been a great thing, my getting this little bit of a holiday. Youll remember to deliver my messages to my nephew . and the rest, Cyras, when you get back to Wellington ?” ‘* Y’ll remember them, sir.” “‘ Father,” began Cyras, the following morning, when, as chance () COM nOO|kKS.CO