The Argosy, August 1905 — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

3 np and went with lagging a mirror, lighting a bracketed candle as one who dreads to sce and yet must look. The refleetion calmed her. She was still young—the old edition of herself in a larger reprint; that was all. She stepped back with visible relief. A sound of cab wheels rolling over the asphalt drew her to the window. Part- ing the curtains, she looked out. ‘The night was marshaling its host of stars; the warm moisture of spring lay on the pavements. The cab had stopped at her door. She turned inquiringly as a maid en- tered bearing a ecard on a silver tray. Before she had fully mastered the mean- ing of the name she heard a man’s quick step in the corridor. As the maid retreated, her eapeai ita grew almost to be physical pain. With straining eyes she watched the doorway. It was here at last—this meeting of the bridged-over years. The next moment they stood facing each other. “ Lloyd! ” “My dear Elinor! ” She felt as Mary did confronted by Lazarus; the grave-clothes still about his head; then her voice left her—her lips, hot and dry, could form no greet- ing. Only her eyes gave him the wel- come he craved. As his hand found hers, she sank on a divan, trembling. He explaimed in broken sentences. “Tt took an earlier steamer—it was beastly over there. I lost at Monte Carlo—and like a small boy I wanted to get home, away trom it —I came straight to you. She hardly heard what he was saying —the tumult of her joy seemed to be killing her. He leaned over and kissed her on the lips, passing his fingers across her fore- head. The caress ‘left her weak—she was like a sensitive lily alive to the touch of the first despoiling hand. At last she sat up, smiling tearfully. “Qh,” she said, “I know what Heaven is—it’s a meeting-place for souls! Lloyd! Oh, Lloyd—to~ e you back again!” pacuphed eRoay, A * Pa Se , i « Pi Tas es Ene at +. “ou “always were strong on senti- ment, Elinor. So you’ve missed me? That’s pleasant! I think I want you now as I never did in those old days. You are like good wine—age has im- proved you.” She flushed with pleasure. To be weighed in the balances and not found wanting! “ Lloyd,” she whispered; “ Lloyd.” “Oh,” he said lightly, “ [ was sure of you, Elinor—thats why I wrote. I heard from the Badgelys you were still in the same place. I met them at Pisa— after Ethel died I roamed around a good deal, getting used to my freedom. It was sudden, you know—she always did things that way. We were at a hole of a place in Nice when it happened. I did all I ecould—I tried to make up at the end; but it doesn’t matter now whether I did or not—I’m back with you.” She was looking at him intently. He gave her a sensation of strangeness. His words she hardly heard—she was eo alive to the tones of his voice—tlisten- ing for familiar cadences. He leaned back, watching her. “'The Badgelys told me that you had dropped out of society. ‘That was fool- ish, Elinor; you owe it to me to be somebody. They said your long-legged lawyer friend still looked after you—he was a clever fellow. It was a wonder you didn’t marry him—I was out of the way.” She looked up at him. “ Lloyd, it was all | could do to be true in the one way left to me.” He patted her hand. “What a dear little fool you were, Of course I knew you were true, even uh -¥ : He stopped abruptly. “Oh,” she said, ‘ how the years have cheated us!” He nodded. “In more ways than one. But we'll pay them back, Elinor; we'll live the rest of our lives to the limit, and we'll eheat them in another way—by forget- ting.” She stroked his hand. , “ Dear,” she said, “ can one ever for- ried ‘Tt seoms as if 1 Bowe pee a LY cal comicbooks.com