The Argosy — page 309: what you’re looking at

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

288 A Little Maid, an Old Maid and the Major. ‘ Miss Dodson /” ‘The exclamation, in tones of extreme surprise, broke simultaneously from Maud and Mrs. Sherlock. Miss Dodson was the sister of the young doctor whose suit the Bowens had been urging, and of all people in Silcombe she was the very last who would be likely to know Maud’s private affairs, ‘Bobbie, you talk too fast,” said Mrs. Sherlock, shaking her head reprovingly at the delinquent. “T don’t; do I, Effie? Didn’t she say it, just now, in the road? And weren’t we going to ask Maud all about it?” Efhe corroborating these surprising statements, all the juvenile eyes were directed towards Maud in inquiry. She turned pale, but remained resolutely silent. Dr. and Mrs. Bowen began to look very alert and knowing ; but, fortunately for her eldest niece, Mrs. Sher- lock had but one sentiment—an angry incredulity. ““T call it most impertinent of Miss Dodson! I shall write to her to say that she is quite mistaken, and beg her to give me her authority,” said the good lady. ‘“ Better let the matter be, Hetty,” observed Dr. Bowen. “Never ask for explanations. ‘That’s always our principle, isn’t it, Henry P” ‘¢ Well—it’s mine, my dear,” replied the doctor, drily. “We have had a delightful drive,” said Mrs. Bowen, addressing her sister. ‘You will never guess where we have been: to the cemetery—the new one beyond Drayfield. And we have chosen a piece of ground—a sweet spot, where our friends won’t mind coming, even in wet weather : it is so high.” Your friends!” echoed Mrs. Sherlock, in gentle bewilderment, her mind not being rapid. “To visit our graves. I hope you will all come from time to time,” continued Mrs. Bowen hospitably, as she rose to wrap herself snugly in her furs. ‘‘Weshould be sorry to think you meant to forget all about us as soon as we were put away, my old man and I. Well, good-bye, Hester! Good-bye, little people! Don’t fret if the answer to your letter is long in coming, Maud.” And, pleased with this final little joke, Mrs. Bowen smilingly waddled out, ensconced herself and helped to ensconce her husband in the pony carriage, and, with many nods and hand-wavings, was driven away. ‘Aunt Hetty,” said little Effie, solemnly, a few minutes later, ‘“when Aunt Mary and Uncle Henry are put away, will you go to see them often ?” ‘‘T daresay I shall, love. It will be my great consolation. Only I think it very likely that your dear uncle and aunt will follow me to my last home, instead of my following them,” concluded Mrs. Sherlock in a tone of pleasing melancholy, for she was slightly hypochondriacal and fond of alluding to her imminent end. Efe was a sweet, spiritual-looking child with wonderful, dreamy COMMICELOOOKS.E@) m