The Argosy — page 212: what you’re looking at

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

The House of Halliwell. 193 appeared, ‘“‘go instantly to Mrs. Stevens, ask to speak to Miss Louisa, and tell her it is my desire that she return home with you immediately. Stay—call at Ford’s and take a fly, go in it, and return in it. A pretty night assize night is for women to be in the streets,” muttered the discomfited lawyer. No sooner had Nancy departed than there came a rat-tat-tat to the street door, and in walked the Reverend Mr. Whistler, ushered in by the cook, who, to her own mortification, happened that day, of all days in the year, not to have “cleaned” herself. The lawyer stared, and Clara stared, for the parson had arrayed himself in evening attire, white kid gloves, silk stockings, pumps and _ tights. Tights in every sense of the word. ‘They had long lain by, unused, and the parson, upon getting them out, found he had grown stouter. He went all over as red as his hunting-coat, and sat down dreadfully embarrassed, feeling convinced he had mistaken the night, and ready to swear—if he had not been a parson—at his own stupidity. Clara asked if he would take a cup of tea, and he stammered that he would, though he hated tea like poison. ‘You must allow me to congratulate you, sir,” he began, believing he was expected to say something about the wedding, and clearing his throat to help overcome his diffidence. “I was sorry not to have had that pleasure this morning.” Lawyer Freer knew of no cause for congratulation, save the verdict in favour of Mrs. Agatha Needham. ‘Thank you,” he said; ‘it is not a pleasant thing to lose a cause.” The parson expected his host to say daughter, and if the word sounded to his ear like cause, he attributed it to his own bewilder ment. “Indeed it is not,” answered the parson. ‘‘I remember when my sister was married, my mother and the bridesmaids cried all day.” The attorney looked up with undisguised astonishment, and Miss Freer certainly was laughing. He felt sure it was at those wretched tights, and pushed his legs back under his chair as far as he could without overbalancing himself. ‘““Were you amused in Court to-day?” was his next question, addressing Miss Freer. “In Court! I?” cried Clara. ‘“ Tt was her sister who went,” broke in the lawyer, ‘‘my youngest daughter. Clara would not have acted so indiscreetly. Louisa’s not come home yet.” “Your youngest daughter went to the hall to-day!” echoed the clergyman, staring in his turn. ‘‘ That is rather—rather uncommon —is it not?” “Uncommon? It’s unpardonable.” ‘And Mr. Elliot. Was he there, too ?” “Mr. Elliot!” roared the attorney, firing at the name. ‘“I don’t know anything about Mr. Elliot. What’s Mr. Elliot to me?” VOL. XLIX. N GomiilGaooks (©) im