The Argosy — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

IO The Village Blacksmith. ‘* May I ask the meaning of your conduct to-day, Mr. Tempest?” she demanded haughtily. ‘To what do you allude, my dear?” feebly answered the poor little man, shuffling across the room in his dressing-gown and slippers. ‘To your scornful rejection of my poor little offering towards the fabric of the Church. ‘The set of stoles I have presented are not perhaps the handsomest which can be obtained, but they are at least decent, which is more than can be said for that black rag Simmons has been so insolent to Holmes about.” ‘‘ My dear, they are beautiful, very beautiful. It is the principle, not the stoles, that I object to. My conscience will not allow me to wear them, deeply as I appreciate your generosity in giving them.” ‘‘You appear to appreciate it, certainly. But I, too, have a con- science, and my conscience will not allow me to attend a church where the services are not done decently and in order; so for the future I shall drive to Ashchurch.” ‘“The services not done decently, my dear! I have always been most careful to adhere strictly to the rubrics and to the principles of the Church of which I have the honour to be a minister; and 1 sincerely hope you will not dream of driving elsewhere.” “‘T shall not dream about it. I shall do it, unless my wishes are consulted, and my deepest feelings regarded.” ‘“‘ Dear me, dear me, what is to be done? Poppy, darling, do be reasonable. I can’t act against my conscience even to please you. This, you see, involved a principle,” said the poor little Rector, walking up and down the room in perplexity, knowing that to ask a woman to be reasonable was as futile as to ask a lawyer to be honest. ‘Pray be seated ; my nerves are sufficiently shattered by all I have suffered to-day from you and Vera. She tells me the doctor has ordered her horse exercise, and yet she refuses to take it. I really fear I am cn the eve of an illness ; I am not strong enough to cope with such strong wills.” And here Mrs. Ryot-Tempest resorted to the melting mood, and began to sob hysterically, and poor Mr. Ryot-Tempest felt, as he was meant to feel, that he was a brute. ‘“ Don’t, Poppy, dear, don’t ; I really must be firm about this ; ask anything else of me and I will do my best to grant it,” he exclaimed distractedly as he knelt by her side and began to chafe one of her hands in his. The sobs gradually but quickly subsided ; she did not wish for swelled eyelids, especially now she had gained the point she was really aiming at. Not the red stole—that was only one of the outworks; one of several, but only an outwork—her aim was the city, which was all but won, and soon her standard would fly from the citadel. ‘Then if you mean what you say, I should like to have Mr. Hastings for your curate. I will pay him.” CORNICE OOOMKKS (0)