The Argosy — page 298: what you’re looking at

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

The House of Halliwell. 299 They were up in arms when she entered by herself—the whole room. Oh, where was Mr. Halliwell? What was the matter? Was Mr. Halliwell not coming? “Who is it that has sent for him?” inquired Mrs. Zink, when Hester explained. “« Sally Davis, I think Jim said,” she answered. “There! that old creature is always being taken ill!” uttered Mrs. Zink. ‘‘Do you remember, at the Jones’s party in the Christmas week, when we were all so comfortable, dancing a quiet quadrille on the carpet, a message came from Sally Davis that she feared she should not live till morning, and dear Mr. Halliwell was forced to go to Back Lane, through all the cold, in his thin shoes? She is never contented but when she is having prayers read to her. ‘They ought to put her in the workhouse.” “JT hope my brother will never feel his duties irksome,” Hester ventured to observe ; ‘‘and I think he will not.” Just then a young gentleman swung into the room with a discon- tented air, and dropped into a vacant chair next to Hester. “TI say,” he whispered to her, ‘‘is not this precious slow?” “ Do you think so ?” she politely replied. ‘What has taken the parson, that he is not here yet? Do you know ?” : ‘Mr. Halliwell has been called out to someone who is ill,” said Hester. ‘He may not be able to come at all.” “My! you don’t mean that! Won't they be savage! That serves ma right, for not letting me go boating. Because some of us fellows upset a skiff the other day, and got a ducking, she swore I should -mever go near the water again. We had made up a jolly rowing party for this evening, and when I was stealing off to it, she pounced upon me in the hall, and we had a regular quarrel. I told her I would go, so she laid hold of me, and hallooed out for the governor, who came out of the office and put in his word, and they made me dress and come in here.” “Are you Master Zink ?” “T am Mister Zink, if you please,” returned the young gentleman. “When a fellow’s going on for seventeen, I should think that’s old enough to be Mister. I say, though, isn’t it a game about the parson? ‘They have been mad over this blow-out : trying on dresses, figuring off before the glass, practising songs: all for him. And now he doesn’t show. By Jove! if it’s not good! ‘There’s more fuss Made with that parson than with all Chelson.” “Who is that ?” inquired Hester, thinking it might be well to turn the conversation, and directing his attention to a quiet-looking gir] in _hilac muslin. “That! That’s Mab.” Who; sir?” ““Mabel Zink, my sister. The missis” (Mister Zink’s familiar (E©) im ‘ GomiilGcaooks