The Argosy — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

THE ArcoeY: Anne Hereford. IOI What little corroboration there was, certainly was on Mr. Edwin Barley’s side : on/y that he had asserted more than was true of the dying words of Philip King. If these were the simple facts, the truth, why have added falsehood to them ? “‘ Heneage could have had no motive to take the life of Philip King,” argued Mrs. Edwin Barley. ‘‘That he would have caned him, or given him some other sound chastisement, I grant you—and richly he deserved it, for he was the cause of all the ill-feeling that had arisen in the house —but, to kill him! No, no!” “‘ And yet you would deem me capable of it !” ‘““T am not accusing you. But when you come to speak of motives, I cannot help seeing that George Heneage could have had none.” “You have just observed that the author of the mischief, the bad feeling which had sprung up in the house, was Philip King; but you are wrong. The author was you, Selina.” No answer. She put up one of her hot hands, and shaded her eyes. “TI forgive you,” he continued. ‘I am willing to bury the past in silence : never to recur to it—never henceforth to allude to it, though the boy was my relative and ward, and I liked him. But I would recommend you to bear this tragical ending in mind, as a warning for the future. I will not tolerate further folly in my wife; and your own sense ought to tell you that had I been ambitious of putting somebody out of the world, it would have been Heneage, not Philip. Heneage has killed him, and upon his head be the consequences. I will never cease my endeavours to bring him to the drop. I will spare no pains, or energy, or cost, until it is accomplished. So help me, Heaven!” He rose with the last solemn word, and put the chair back in its place. On his way to the door he turned, speaking in a softer voice. ‘“‘ Are you better this evening, Selina ? ” ‘“Not any. It seems to me that I grow worse with every hour.” ‘<T’ll send Lowe up to you. He 1s somewhere about.” “Oh, aunt, aunt!” I said, going forward with lifted hands and streaming eyes, as he left the chamber, ‘‘I was here all the time! | saw Mr. Edwin Barley coming in, and I hid behind the window-curtain. I never meant to be a listener: I was afraid to come out.” She looked at me without speaking, and her face, hot with fever, grew more flushed. She seemed to be considering ; perhaps remem- bering what had passed. } ‘¢ |—_J—-don’t think there was anything very particular said, that you need care ; or, rather, that I need,” she said at length. ‘‘ Was there?” - “No, Selina. Only ” “Only what, child? Why do you hesitate ?” “ You think it might have been Mr. Edwin Barley. I wish I had not heard that.” ‘IT said, or implied, it was as likely to have been he as the other. GOHRMGIOO <S GO)