The Argosy — page 314: what you’re looking at

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

A Little Maid, an Old Maid and the Major. 293 questioned Mrs. Sherlock, who, in reality the most simple-minded of ‘women, was suspicious by fits from sheer inability to sift evidence. “How should I?” retorted poor Maud, irritably. Unluckily, irritability in her being an unusual phenomenon attracted an immense amount of attention, and she was nearly stared out of countenance. It was more than she could bear, and she abruptly left the room. Mrs. Sherlock shook her head; then gently sighed. Extremely amiable by nature, her general attitude was nevertheless one of mild agerievedness. And sometimes she indulged in the little mental dissipation of thinking that her nephews and nieces did not behave towards her as nicely as they should have done. ‘The idea—perhaps because there was no reality in it—gave her a meek and secret satis- faction. Major Murdoch had driven over from the Abbey to show Vine Cottage to his little son; then called at Elm Tree Cottage, because he had learnt from the Bowens of the existence of his friend Jack’s aunt and sisters. He had sat some time listening to stories of the young officer’s childhood and youth, and responding to them politely. He was “very grave and quiet, but nice.” That was the verdict pronounced on him by Edith, Alfy and Bobby, and dinned all the evening into Maud’s ears. ‘We told him you were out, and would be so sorry not to have seen him ; but he did not say he had met you,” said Edith, with an inquisitive stare, Effie’s revelations having sunk into a fertile soil, and yielded a fine crop of conjectures. ‘How should he know who I was?” Maud retorted, but, alas! again with that fatal blush. This time it was patent even to Mrs. Sherlock. Well, if he bowed ——” °° Oh, that bow! How can you listen to Effie’s chatter? I tell you that until you mentioned me, he had probably never even heard of my existence,” said Maud, adding, with unnecessary earnestness : “‘ And do let us talk of something else. I am sick of the sound of Major Murdoch’s name!” This was such a heresy that it landed everybody high and dry upon a rock of speechlessness ; and Maud had Saget for the rest of that evening. CHAPTER III. THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER, Any new arrival at Silcombe furnished food for much superfluous comment, and Major Murdoch proved no exception to the rule. He installed himself in Vine Cottage in the course of a week, and immediately afterwards several particulars, more or less veracious, oozed out about him. They were, on the whole, vaguely unfavour- VOL. XLVI, U cCoOnniclooolkks (C(O)