The Argosy — page 256: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Postlethwatte’s Will, iy, missed the little maid who had witnessed the codicil, with instruc- tions to bring in ‘‘ The old Madeira. Mr. Austen’s wine.” I lighted a taper and she produced Sir Josiah’s ponderous gold chain and seals. “Colonel St. George” was announced, and the chain and seal fell clashing to the floor. The Colonel saluted me with his cus- tomary boisterous geniality, and withdrew with a newspaper to the window while we finished our business. I was glad to get away from him and, in dread of an invitation to dinner, accepted a glass of the old Madeira and bade a hasty farewell. The wine had a curious effect upon me I fancied. After leaving the house { lingered about, reluctant to go, haunted by the aggravating idea that I had left some commission unfulfilled, or forgotten some important part of my errand. [ felt for the key. I had that safe enough, and I knew I had locked the door securely. I must hurry home if I wanted to see my father, so hailing the first cab I jumped in, throwing my overcoat on the front seat. We had reached the end of the road before I glanced at it and there, lying beside it, was Lady Postlethwaite’s will. There is no mistake about it. How had it come there? Had we locked up the wrong paper? I stopped the driver, and as I did so the paper slipped from my hand. I searched, and so did he, but in vain. ‘The window had been shut; it could not have fallen out. Had I been dreaming? I felt ashamed of the idea but how else could I account for this. ‘* That old Madeira,” I mentally decided. ‘My unlucky governor! If he goes there often I don’t wonder he has to finish at Carlsbad.” I saw him off and spent the rest of the evening with an old college friend who had come up to town about marriage settlements. He had a great deal to tell me about his lady love and I sat smoking, tranquilly listening to his raptures. and thinking—who knows why— about Letty Dorrian. I was awakened early next morning by Harris, my father’s man, who stood by my bed-side with a face of concern. ‘ Very sorry to have to rouse you, sir; but a most urgent message has come—Lady Postlethwaite, sir—would you kindly bring that key at once!” I sprang up. ‘‘ Hot water directly, Harris, and send for a cab. How did the message come?” Harris’s blank look stopped me. “What time did Lady Postlethwaite send ?” | ‘Lady Postlethwaite, sir! I never mentioned her ladyship. I was saying that cook says the boiler pipes is froze up she thinks, and she wants to know what she is to do about your bath and the kitchen fre? Sorry to disturb you, sir.” I laughed it off to Harris, but I felt annoyed, and the annoyance lasted all that day and far into the night. I dreamed of that sealed packet till morning. Now I was opening the envelope and discover ing the contents to be a monster poster of one of Colonel St. George’s afternoon teas; or I was hunting frantically for that key through piles CORnNICOOOKS.EO