The Evil Genius: A Domestic Story — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

THE EVIL GENIUS. 50 lovely night, like you. Take my arm. It is so close in here among the trees. If we go back to the lawn, the air will come to you freely.” She took his arm; he could feel her heart throbbing against it. Kindly silent, he led her back to the open space. Some garden- chairs were placed here and there: he suggested that she should rest for a while. ‘‘T’m afraid I shall be shut out,” she repeated. ‘‘ Pray let me get back.” He yielded at once to the wish that she expressed. ‘‘ You must let me take you back,” he explained. ‘‘ They are all asleep at the house by this time. No! no! don’t be frightened again. I have got the key of the door. The moment I have opened it, you shall go in by yourself.” She looked at him gratefully. ‘‘ You are not offended with me now, Mr. Linley,” she said. ‘‘ You are like your kind self again.” _ They ascended the steps which led to the door. Linley took the key from his pocket. It acted perfectly in drawing back the lock: but the door, when he pushed it, resisted him. He put his shoulder against it. and exerted his strength helped by his weight. The door remained immovable. Had one of the servants, sitting up later than usual after the party, and not aware that Mr. Linley had gone into the garden, noticed the door, and carefully fastened the bolts on the inner side? That was exactly what had happened. There was nothing for it but to submit to circumstances. pee led the way down the steps again. ‘‘ We are shut out,” e said. Sydney listened in silent dismay. He seemed to be merely amused; he treated their common misfortune as lightly as if it had been a joke. ‘‘There’s nothing so very terrible in our situation,” he re- minded her. ‘‘ The servants’ offices will be opened between six and seven o’clock: the weather is perfect; and the summer-house in the French Garden has one easy-chair in it, to my certain knowledge, in which you may rest ana sleep. [’msure you must be tired—let me take you there.” She drew back, and looked up at the house. ‘“Can’t we make them hear us ?” she asked. ‘*Quite impossible. Besides He was about to remind her of the evil construction which might be placed on their ap- pecans together, returning from the garden at an advanced our of the night; but her innocence pleaded with him to be si- lent. He only said, ‘‘ You forget. we all sleep at the top of our old castle. There is no knocker to the door, and no bell that rings up-stairs. Come to the summer-house. In an hour or two more we shall see the sun rise.” She took his arminsilence. They reached the French Garden without another word having passed between them. The summer-house had been designed, in harmony with the French taste of the last century, from a classical model. It was a rough copy in wood of the Temple of Vesta at Rome. | COMMICLOO® S (E() im