The Argosy — page 88: what you’re looking at

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

78 Eve: An Tayll. her life of loveliness, had the Countess of Millamant looked so beau- tiful as now. The young man’s admiration spoke in his eyes and trembled in his voice ; and Prudence, too experienced to need a second glance to tell her how matters stood, discreetly withdrew out of earshot. She thought her lady acting wondrous foolishly, but knew too well how useless would be advice or remonstrance to attempt either ; and, indeed, felt herself little fitted to enact the part of Marplot in Love’s drama. The talk between the two flowed on then unrestrained, mingled with loving looks and sly hand+pressures. ‘“ How different art thou, fairest Eve, from the fine ladies I see when I go about with my lord, and oh ! how much more lovely! 'Tis strange, but thou remindest me of one I’ve seen but once, who is thought the fairest of them all—and yet what difference! Her face is all one mask of paint and patch; one can scarcely guess what the reality may be beneath. And then her mincing airs might suit a monkey on a vagrant’s organ, but not a woman who is to be a wife and mother ; whilst thou, O beauteous Eve! art all simplicity and truth. Yet, sooth to say, I see a wondrous likeness.” “ And what,” cried the Countess, “may be the name of this much praised, and yet much dispraised fair one ?” ‘The Countess of Millamant. All know her. She is the toast of half the town.” She no doubt expected the answer, and yet she coloured, looked confused, and then indignant, and yet half pleased. Did she at once take the lesson to her heart? We cannot tell. She said, ‘“‘ That lady were much flattered could she hear you.” “She would not heed the warning, I tell thee, Eve. I would not wed one of those court ladies had she a queen’s dowry.” “Nor I court gallant,” cried she, stung to retort. ‘What are they all? Things made of patches, pads, and perukes. Their brilliancy all in their gold embroidery, their refinement in their lace ruffles, their grace in their red-heeled, diamond-buckled shoes, their brains—but no, what need to find a place for that which is not.” “Heyday, you seem to know them well, and art mighty severe upon them.” The Countess saw she had forgotten her part, and hastened to say, “Oh! I have seen them when I went with my sister to the town, but speak no more of them ; speak of ourselves, of this sweet scene, the sunshine, and the flowers, and what to do to-morrow.” And so they prattled on, as lovers do, while half-spoken words and sighs filled up the pauses in the talk, till poor Prudence was ready to fling her- self into the river with impatience, hunger, and fatigue. But lovers know no such vulgar wants, and it was long ere they resolved to part, with many promises to meet again to-morrow. And so they did. The tryst by the riverside was often renewed in the sweet summer comicbooks.com