The Argosy — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

114 Princess Eleanor. Still, Eleanor, so long as you had not a misgiving on the subject, I had no right to awaken you. You were like the somnambulist, who, with firm and steady step, walks along the edge of a precipice ; who , will, if undisturbed, in all probability regain hts home in safety. The warning word which awakens him may throw him into immeasurable depths, may cause his destruction. Therefore, Eleanor, I did not wam you. You did not know what your rebellious little heart was about ; unconsciously you were happy in his presence. You might never have come to a clear perception— a prolonged absénce of the artist might have allowed others to please you, and your vessel might have entered the safe port of a happy marriage before you had discovered the dangerous cliffs that had threatened to shatter it to pieces. Had I warned you this would have been impossible. The knowledge of the disease was in your case more fatal than the disease itself; you could not then unconsciously have escaped danger. Had you been less ignorant of the true state of things, you would have read between the lines of my letter, and would have been alarmed. What I wrote could help you, once you had made a first discovery—the very first signal I dared not give: What are you to do now? Dear girl, I am without the least anxiety on that account, for I know that your pure heart can only dictate noble behaviour. You will do what satisfies your brother and’ your own conscience, even at the cost of your happiness or your life! Still on one point let me warn you. Although I am but a few years older than you, I have had time to learn that in calm judgment we seldom go wrong in this world. Everything, dearest, is less bright than we have dreamed it: Your brother never doubts the guilt of the young artist ; you are quite sure that he is innocent. Pardon me, Eleanor, if, in choosing between these two altematives, I stand on your brother's side. His high mind and clear judgment we both consider a standard in every question. You would not be Eleanor, if fora moment you doubted the innocence of him who stole your heart. But think, dearest, if all he has said and done up to this day be but hypocrisy, if he really be guilty, then you do not, cannot love him. Consider well before you act. Above all, trust to your brother, who has never yet been unjust to anyone. ._{f you can per- suade yourself that he is guilty, then will you spare yourself a thousand pangs. Your brother, Eleanor, must have been entirely absorbed by other in- - terests, or he could not have been blind to what was happening around him. Has he found what he has [so long sought in vain—the woman with whom he would choose to pass his life ? I close this letter in my anxiety for you,”and sincerely hope that a letter from you brings better news. 7 Your (Amy. comicbooks.com