The Argosy — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

Margaret's Grave. 55 “ Margaret Grey!” In the tone, as he echoed the name, there was a sound as though he had been startled. He coughed it down at once and went on carelessly. ‘And is this Margaret Grey a friend of yours? If so, I will never Say a word against her.” “Not quite a friend, though papa did bring her here to be a com- panion for me. I am sure,” she said, and a sudden shiver seemed to stir her as though she were cold, “I did not want her. Mamma wishes she had never come away from England !” “English, too!” he exclaimed, though he could have bitten his tongue out the next minute, to think he had used that unguarded expression. “‘ English too!” repeated Leslie, her bright face glowing a shade paler. ‘‘ What does that mean, Richard? I hope there is no mystery about Miss Grey. Have’ you ever known any English girl of the mame?” ‘‘There is no mystery about the lady that I know of,” he said, laughing. “I was only surprised that your mother should tolerate anything English in her house. You see I am east leaning Mrs. Rus- sell’s likes and dislikes, little Blossom.” “Mamma doesn’t quite care for her, I believe; but papa, when he was dying, made her promise to be a friend to Margaret, and to have her here always if Miss Grey liked to stay. I think she was the daugh- ter of an old friend of papa’s in England.” “But I don’t quite understand,” cried Mr. Ensor. ‘“ If Miss Grey lives here, how is it that I have never before seen her?” “You are stupid, Richard. She has been away on a long visit to some people, and only returned to-day. There! do not let us talk any longer of Margaret Grey, or I shall be jealous,” concluded the foolish girl. ‘You jealous, Leslie. I never used to think you coudd be jealous!” ‘But I can be and am,” she replied, with a quick glance from her dark violet eyes. “‘I am jealous of that home in England which I have never seen, and which you love so well. Iam jealous of the very servants who have surrounded you with loving attentions from your boyhood until now ; and, more than all, I am jealous of those fair English girls who have been your companions. You are nearly | ten years older than I, Richard,—tell me if you loved any other woman before you saw me ?” ‘‘ Have I not told you a hundred times, you vain young lady, that I do not care for anyone but you ?—that I don’t know a woman’s face save yours? Other forms and faces—no matter how fair—passed me by like shadows; but your face, little Blossom, I know it by oat 1” ‘Shut your eyes, then, and tcll me what it is like.” — comicbooks.com