The Argosy — page 280: what you’re looking at

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

= — —_ A Lady’s Privilege. 261 Mrs. Pemberton and Lady Hawbuck, who had been discussing every domestic grievance, from the iniquities of servants to the extortions of tradespeople, seemed mutually tired of each other; while the good- natured Ethel had just given up in despair the hopeless task of teaching Miss Blake bézique. Mrs. Beresford, ensconced in a low chair near the fire and looking unutterably bored, greeted the new comers effusively. “T thought you had forgotten us altogether,” she said to Trevor. “Ton’t spoil sport over there,” she added, seeing his eye directed towards the piano, ‘‘ but come and amuse me.” There was no help for it, and for the next quarter of an hour he found himself compelled to listen, more or less attentively, to an uninterrupted flow of small talk, until compassionately relieved from duty by Noland ; who not only communicated to the delighted widow sundry piquant anecdotes, expressly stored up for country circulation, but supplied her, at her own request, with infallible “tips ” for the autumn handicaps, which, had she profited by the information thus acquired, would have seriously compromised her income for the current year. Even then Jack’s star was not in the ascendant. At the earnest solicitation of the enthusiastic Broadacres, Miss Courtenay was induced to remain at the piano, until her stock of hunting songs was ex- hausted, winding up with Whyte Melville’s popular melody, ‘ Drink, puppy, drink.” She had hardly risen from her chair when the arrival of Gilson with the chamber candles occasioned a general move; and the by no means easy task of arousing Lady Totterly from her slumbers and escorting her upstairs having been accomplished, the remaining feminine contingent speedily vanished, Trevor’s chance of exchanging a word with Sybil beyond a formal “ good-night” being indefinitely postponed. “You know your way to my den, Noland,” said the Admiral, taking up his candlestick. ‘‘ Hawbuck and I don’t smoke, but there are plenty of cigars for those who do. _ Broadacres, I know, likes his weed before going to roost.” “Not to-night, thanks,” replied the young man. ‘I’ve smoked a lot to-day, and mean to keep my hand steady for the home ccpse to- morrow.” Travers having likewise declined joining them on the plea of a sudden headache, our two friends were soon comfortably installed in their host’s own particular snuggery and smoking-room. “Tell you what it is, Jack,” said the Honourable Walter, when he had selected a cigar from a box on the table, and tested its quality by a few probationary whiffs, “‘ that fellow Travers means business ; I’ve watched him pretty closely, and if he doesn’t ask Miss Sybil a question before he is four-and-twenty hours older, ‘write me down an ass,’ as the chap says in the play.” “T can’t help it if he does,” moodily replied Jack. ‘‘ What right ) GomiilGaooks im