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Updated: May 18, 2025
Argenter's maid was bringing out the tray with delicate black-etched china cups, and costly fruit plates illuminated with color, and dainty biscuits, and large, rare, red berries, and cream that would hardly pour for richness in a gleaming crystal flagon, and ranging them all on the rustic veranda table, something very different, very grim, at which the occupants of rooms near by shuddered as it passed their open doors, was borne down the long, wide corridor to Number Five, in the Metropolitan; and at the same moment, again, a gentleman, very grave, was standing at the counter of the Merchants' Union Telegraph Company's Office, writing with rapid hand, a brief dispatch, addressed to "Mrs.
Jeffords had a bright fire built in Mrs. Argenter's room, another in the family sitting-room. It looked cosy; but it reminded the sojourners that they had not simply to draw themselves into winter-quarters, and be comfortable; their winter-quarters were yet to seek.
During the removal, it was settled that they should go and stay with Mrs. Lowndes, at River Point. This practically resulted in Mrs. Argenter's remaining with her sister, while Sylvie and Sabina spent their time, night as well as day, often, between Argenter Place and the new house. Rodney Sherrett rode through the village one day, when they were busy there with their arrangements.
Argenter's sister to her from River Point, and then turned toward Dorbury Upper Village and the telegraph office. But he met Sim Atwill on the way, received the telegram from him, and hurried back. It was the dispatch of the hour later, and this was it: "Mr. Argenter died at five o'clock. His remains will be sent home to-morrow, carefully attended.
Argenter's father had been fond of money; had made and saved a considerable sum himself; and always meant that his son should make and save a good deal more. So he signified this in his cradle and gave him what he called a lucky name, to begin with. The wife of the elder Mr.
To tell of what has been happening with Sylvie Argenter's thread of our story, we must go back some weeks and pages to the time just after the great fire. As it was with the spread of the conflagration itself, so it proved also with the results, of loss, and deprivation, and change.
Argenter's daughter quite to themselves in the intimacy of "up-stairs," to wait upon and take care of. Mrs. Ingraham fussed and "my-deared" a good deal; her daughters took it with more outward calmness.
Kirkbright beforehand to get her mother's foot-warmer filled with hot water at the station, and he had just returned with it. She was busily arranging it under Mrs. Argenter's feet again, and wrapping the rug about her, kneeling beside her chair to do so, when some one entered the drawing-room car in which the party was, and came up behind her.
Rodney did not answer instantly. It occurred to him all at once what this "not saying any place" might mean. Just as he began, "You couldn't go until to-morrow," came Mrs. Argenter's sharp cry from her room above. Amy had walked right on into the open, lighted apartment, Mrs.
But the diplomacy had been this: "There is one thing, Argie, I should really like Sylvie to have. It is getting to be almost a necessity, living out of town as we do." Mr. Argenter's other names were "Increase Muchmore;" but his wife passed over all that, and called him in the grace of conjugal intimacy, "Argie." Increase Muchmore Argenter.
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