The Argosy — page 119: what you’re looking at

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

Gwen. 107 And then the fatal missive was opened, and the next moment Gwen had sunk down on a chair by the window-sill, and the small glossy head—generally held so high—was bowed in abject misery, and the slight girlish figure was shaken with sobs. Angry and indignant as Dr. Ellis was with the examiners, for fail- ing to appreciate his daughter’s real merits, he was still more distressed at the desolation of her grief, and strove to comfort her. ‘Never mind, Gwen, it is of no real importance,” he said, tenderly caressing the girl’s bowed head, with a touch that went straight to her heart. Just then a bell rang, and Dr. Ellis had to hurry off, not sorry to escape. In the corridor he met Mr. Dallas, “Poor Gwen is in terrible trouble, Dallas,” he said, in a shaky voice ; “those stupid examiners have not passed her, and I can’t say anything to cheer her. Perhaps you might be more successful.” Mr. Dallas went at once to Gwen’s room, and as no one responded to his knock, lhe opened the door and stood on the threshold, with a very tender and wistful expression in his eyes. Gwen still sat by the window-sill, with her arms resting upon it, and her head bowed upon them, as her father had left her, in an attitude of utter despair. “‘T must apologise for coming in unperceived, Miss Gwen,” said Mr. Dallas, drawing near, and speaking in his most composed and cheeriest tones. ‘ Dr. Ellis has told me the tidings, but surely there is no need to be so cast down! You are only sixteen, and there is plenty of time to try again. Some of our best life-workers have begun with failure.” But Gwen’s head only bent lower, and Mr. Dallas was puzzled how to proceed. His heart was very full of sympathy with his pupil, as he watched the chequered sunlight fall through the diamond- paned window on her bowed head. He grew desperate at last, and said in a voice which was—in spite of himself—rather tremulous with feeling: “ Really Gwen you must not take it so to heart; we— who care for you—cannot bear to see you grieve like this. It is your happiness we care for, not any fleeting honours you might have gained. Do you suppose any of us will think less highly of you for your defeat ?” Something in the eager pleading of his tones startled the weeping girl, and enabled her to check her sobs, and raise her tear-stained face in response to his kind words. Resolutely thrusting back her tears she rose, and standing erect by the table, but with her head still bent, she said, rather unsteadily, however : “It is just the thought of you that troubles me, most ot all. To think that I should have wasted so many of your precious holiday hours, and all for this!” “Wasted !” exclaimed Mr. Dallas. ‘I am sorry you look upon them in that light. For my own part I consider them some of the comicbooks.com