The Evil Genius: A Domestic Story — page 160: what you’re looking at

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

“THE EVIL GENIUS. 149 go examine some prints hanging onthe walls, which were su- perior as works of art to the customary decorations of a room at an hotel. If he had gone straight to the window he might have seen his divorced wife, his child, and his wife’s mother getting into the carriage which took them to the railway-station. ‘*Come, Sydney.” he said, ‘‘ and look at the sea.” She joined him wearily, with a faint smile. It was a calm, sunny day. Bathing-machines were on the beach; children were playing here and there; and white sails of pleasure-boets were visible in the offing. The dullness of Sandyseal wore a quiet, homely aspect which was pleasant to the eyes of strangers. Sydney said, absently, ‘‘I think I shall like the place.” And Herbert added, ‘‘ Let us hope that the air will make you feel stronger.” He meant it and said it kindly—but instead of look- ing at her while he spoke, he continued to look at the view. A woman sure of her position would not have allowed this trifling circumstance, even if she had observed it, to disturb her. Sydney thought of the day in London when he had persisted in jooking out at the street. and returned in silence to her chair. Had he been so unfortunate as to offend her? And in what way? As that doubt occurred to Herbert, his mind turned to Catherine. She never took offense at trifles; a word of kindness from him, no matter how unimportant it might be, always claimed affectionate acknowledgment in the days when he was hiving with his wife. In another moment he had dismissed that remembrance, and could trust himself to return to Sydney. ‘* Tf you find that Sandyseal confirms your first impression,” he said. ‘‘ let me know it in time, so that I may make arrange- ments for a longer stay. I have only taken the rooms here for a fortnight.” ‘Thank you, Herbert; I think a fortnight will be long énough.” ‘‘ Long enough for you?” he asked. Her morbid sensitiveness mistook him again; she fancied there was an under-note of irony in his tone. ‘*Long enough for both of us,” she replied. He drew a chair to her side. ‘* Do you take it for granted, * he said, smiling, ‘* that I shall get tired of the place first ?” She shrank, poor creature, even from his smile. There was, as she thought, something contemptuous in the good-humor of i¢. ‘* We have been to many places,” she reminded him, *‘ and we have got tired of them together.” ‘*Is that my fault ?” ‘*T didn’t say it was.” He got up and approached the bell. ‘‘T think the journey has & little overtired you,” he resumed. ‘* Would you like to go to your room ?” ‘*T will go to my room if you wish it.” He waited a little, and answered her as quietly as ever. What I really wish,” he said, ‘‘ is that we had consulted a doc- tor while we were in London. You seem to be very easily ir- ritated of late. I observe a change in you which I willingly attribute to the state of your health——” -~ CORNICLO® S (CO) im