The Argosy — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

78 One Chnistmas Eve. depths of the dark corner. He went out and banged the door angrily. Kitty came out of the corner, and cried till she was ashamed of herself. Next day Nora told the Doctor he must not sing again until Kitty’s nerves were stronger. “London girls,” he sneered. ‘The other one, however, seems more sensible.” “Less sensitive you mean,” said Nora. ‘Those yellow-haired girls that blush so easily have often very blunt sensibilities.” Frances came into the room dressed for the drive, her pale hair wound into a coil, her blue eyes under perfect control, her winter costume a Parisian masterpiece. Kitty followed, carefully pinning up the oft-turned blue merino, for she was going to walk with Nora, and the fields were muddy. The Doctor hated shabby dresses. He escorted Frances to the phaeton, pleased with her dainty appearance. Searcely had he driven out of the yard, however, when Kitty ran up with a “ wittle ” wrap shawl for Frances. There was something very infectious in her laugh as she ran back to Nora, and the Doctor turned his head just as she lhghtly vaulted the stile leading to the fields. “Poor Kitty!” sighed Frances. ‘‘She is so untrained. She has had few advantages. She is to be married in April.” ‘“aerarried !”” “Oh, yes!” said Frances, blandly. ‘She is very charming to some people.” Il. A WEEK passed by, during which the Doctor saw little of Kitty, though he heard of her from the poor and sick until he was tired. ‘“You spoil the poor people,” said he, roughly, as he came upon her kneading the dough for a sick mother. ‘“ Perhaps so,” said Kitty, sadly. ‘‘I have had no time to study political economy, as Frances has done. I only know the poor woman is ill, and it is in my power to help her.” But the Doctor waited until the task was finished, then said, curtly, ‘““he was ready if Kitty was.” Kitty found herself alone with him for the first time. She looked up at his grim visage, wondering how Fanny managed to talk to him ; then, struck by a mischievous thought, laughed merrily. ‘“Why do you laugh ?” he asked, gravely. ‘“Old Mother Coles!” cried she, with another merry peal. ‘* You scold.me for spoiling the poor. What makes you send her soup every day.” ‘“Oh, her son is a scamp, and is in jail,” replied he, hastily. ‘“So in the meantime you shoulder his responsibilities,” said Kitty, slyly. “Is that political economy? Because, if so, Pll study it. I thought it was cruel, and hard and dry.” - as ; ? (E(0) Gomicbooks