The Evil Genius: A Domestic Story — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

THE EVIL GENIUS. 27 except the unassailable beauty of her eyes and her hair, had been nipped under the frosty superintendence of her maternal aunt. 3 of cheeks were hollow; her delicate lips were pale; her shabby dress lay flat over her bosom. Observant people, meet- ing her when she was out walking with the girls, were struck by her darkly gentle eyes, and by the patient sadness of her expres- sion. ‘‘ What a pity!” they said to each other. ‘*She would be a pretty girl, if she didn’t look so wretched and so thin.” At a loss to understand the audacity of her teacher in rising before the class was dismissed, Miss Wigger began by asserting her authority She did it in two words: ** Sit down!” ‘*T wish to explain, ma’am.” ‘‘Sit down.” ‘“‘T beg, Miss Wigger, that you will allow me to explain.” ““Sydney Westerfield, you are setting the worst possible ex- sable to your class. I shall see this man myself. Will you sit own?” Pale already, Sydney turned paler still. She obeyed the word of command—to the high delight of the girls of herclass. It was then within ten minutes of the half-hour after twelve-— when the pupils were dismissed to the playground while the cloth was laid for dinner. What use would the teacher make of that half-hour of freedom? In the meanwhile Miss Wigger had entered her drawing: room. With the slightest possible inclination of her head, she eyed the stranger through her green spectacles. Even under that disadvantage his appearance spoke for itself. Theservant’s estimate of him was beyond dispute. Mr. Herbert Linley’s good breeding was even capable of suppressing all outward expression of the dismay that he felt, on finding himself face to face with the formidable person who had received him. ‘‘ What is your business, if you please?” Miss Wigger began. Men, animals, and buildings wear out with years, and submit to their hard lot. Time only meets with flat contradiction when he ventures to tell a woman that she is growing old. Herbert Linley had rashly anticipated that the ‘‘ young lady,” whom it was the object of his visit to see, would prove to be young in the literal sense of the word. When he and Miss Wigger stood face to face, if the door had been set open for him, he would have left the house with the greatest pleasure. ‘‘T have taken the liberty of calling,” he said ‘‘in answer to an advertisement. May I ask”—he paused, and took a news- paper from the pocket of his overcoat—‘ if I have the honor of speaking to the lady who is mentioned here ?” He opened the newspaper, and pointed to the advertisement. Miss Wigger’s eyes rested—not on the passage indicated, but on the visitor’s glove. It fitted him to such perfection that it suggested the enviable position in life which has gloves made to order. He politely pointed again. Still inaccessible to the news- paper, Miss Wigger turned her spectacles next to the front win- dow of theroom, and discovered a handsome Carriage waiting at the door. (Money, evidently, in the pockets of those beautiful trousers, worthy of the gloves!) As patiently as ever, Linley COMIC OO© S (E() im