The Argosy — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

Mr. Gordon: Specialist. — SI It was then that Virginia, with many tears and prayers for forgive- ness, confided to her mother the gist of the conversation which she, ‘so long ago, had held with Mr. Gordon. To her unspeakable surprise, instead of receiving the severe reprimand she felt she well merited for having discussed her mother’s infirmity with a stranger, Mrs. Farringdon Griffiths rose to her feet with a cry of gladness. “To think of it, Virginia! Upon my word, you are the greatest fool alive. All this time, and I wondering how on earth you would ever get hold of him again! Why, I now see in my affliction the very way Providence has been preparing for your happiness. To have an aurist in love with you, and your mother growing stone-deaf before your eyes, and never to put the two together! Really, if it was not that I am well acquainted with your wonderful stupidity, I should think you had been prompted by sheer maliciousness, Now there is no need of crying; it only makes you look plain. We will go up to town to-morrow.” And to town they went the next day. Virginia, indeed, had meekly suggested that they should warn Mr. Gordon of their purpose by a letter. But Mrs. Farringdon Griffiths would hear of no more delays. She lent Virginia for the occasion a very juvenile bonnet of her own, and showed much motherly interest in her appear- ance. She allowed the use of no rouge, alleging that Virginia’s pale cheeks were more natural and more interesting under the circum- stances than the most becoming rose colour. With her own well- practised hand she delicately shaded to a cunning darkness the hollows that time had worn under her daughter’s eyes. It was with a beating heart that next day, about luncheon time, when they would be certain to find a doctor at home, Virginia sat perched up beside her mother on the high hard seat of a four- wheeler. Presently the cab turned out of the more crowded thoroughfares, and traversed certain well-known squares, and at last Virginia’s eager eye caught the direction, Sefton Gardens, written up at the end of a row of handsome porticoed houses. The cabman drew up with a jerk. A carriage and pair was blocking the way ; a turn-out very creditable to Mr. Gordon’s repu- tation as a physician, as Mrs. Farringdon Griffiths remarked with satisfaction. ‘The carriage moved on, and the cab-horse, with a vicious little spurt, landed them at the bottom of the flight of steps. The hall door was thrown open before the driver had time to get down from his seat, and a young man-servant in plain clothes, leaving an elder one in charge of the door, ran down the steps and helped the ladies to alight. The elder servant, with an air of sad attention, responded in the affirmative to Mrs. Farringdon Griffiths’ enquiry for Mr. Gordon, and led them across a softly carpeted hall to a waiting- room. | To Virginia it was as though she were in a dream. As she crossed the hall, the dim light shed by the coloured glass, COMICOOOKS.C©