The Argosy — page 289: what you’re looking at

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

268 The House of Halliwell. as Hester excels in these things, and you do not, Lucy, she had better go.” Thus it was decided. And the last week in May Hester quitted Seaford for Chelson. | There was no rail to the place in those days, only three stage coaches, and she started by the early one. The glistening dew was still on the fields, the birds were singing, the hedge flowers opening, and the various points of the landscape, as they drove on, stood out, clear and lovely, against the morning sky. Her fellow passengers were two pleasant, elderly ladies, who pressed egg sandwiches upon her. She asked if they knew Chelson. Yes, they answered, they lived within a few miles of it: it was a pretty place, containing a good many Dissenters. | ‘¢ There are two churches,” Hester eagerly observed: “St. Stephen’s an@sot: Pauls: ‘But they have been so badly managed that a great many have seceded from them to become Dissenters,” one of the ladies replied. ‘“There’s some rare fun going on at Chelson just now, though; as we heard a few days ago in a letter.” ‘Whatis it-?” inquired Hester. “They have a new clergyman at one of the churches, I forget which, and the ladies are turning his head with attention and flattery. It is a hot pursuit with them; Chelson has not been so lively for years. It is sure to be the case where there is a bachelor clergyman.” Hester wondered whether they could be speaking of Alfred. But she thought not: he had too much steady good sense for anything of this sort. At four o’clock she reached -Chelson, and was surprised to find no one waiting for her at the coach-office. A porter took charge of her luggage, and showed her the way to the vicarage. The church, an old grey building, covered with moss, lay very low, a descent of several steps led to the churchyard, and the vicarage was contiguous to it, the long dank grass touching the walls of the house. ‘The porter halted his truck at the steps, and shouldered one of the boxes, whilst Hester went down them, crossed the churchyard, and knocked at the vicarage door. “Tf this house is not damp,” began Hester to herself, but stopped in surprise, for at least a dozen heads appeared at one of the windows, peeping at her. She thought the porter had made a mistake. “Are you sure this is St. Stephen’s Vicarage? The Reverend Alfred Halliwell’s ?” she hastily asked. ‘““Oh, quite sure, miss,” he replied, smiling at her idea of his being mistaken ; and probably following the bent of her thoughts, for he added: “I think the new Vicar have got his sewing-party to-day.” ““Sewing-party !” uttered Hester. comicbooks.com