The Argosy — page 158: what you’re looking at

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

146 Playing with Fire. With the tender, all-embracing sympathy of which mothers seem to hold the merciful secret, she listened, condoled with and soothed her miserable child. “ Now, mother,” said Laura at last, “there is only one thing left for me to do. I must see him.” ‘My poor child, it is quite impossible.” “Mother, I wi// go, and you must take me. There is no harm. There can be no harm, now he is dead.” She spoke with strange calmness. “ My dear, what would people say ?” ‘No one will know. Lady Gamgee will help us.” But her mother would not consent. As the day wore on, however, Laura’s feverish excitement grew so intense that Mrs, Severn thought the lesser evil would be to take her to town and let matters take their course. So, with many apologies to Mrs. Frazer, they took the up train next morning. Leaving their luggage at the Grosvenor, Mrs. Severn and Laura drove to Eaton Square. Lady Gamgee was at home, but engaged at the moment. If Mrs. Severn would not mind waiting? Mrs. Severn did not mind waiting, and they were shown into the boudoir. Laura’s heart, which had seemed turned to stone, stirred uneasily at the memories this room held for her. Here he had read so often to her; how soft and tender his voice had been. Here she had shown him her paintings ; here he had held her hands and called her his queen ; and now, neither here nor elsewhere, could she ever again hear that voice, feel that hand-clasp—never again ! She sat down in the same chair where she had sat when he asked her for her love, and leaned back with shut eyes, trying to picture that handsome bronzed face cold and set in death. Those eyes that had been so love-lighted closed stilly for ever, those once clasping hands coldly folded, but try as she would she could only think of him as she had last seen him, strong, tender, imploring—full of manhood’s vigour and vitality. “ Ah, how changed he will be when I see him again.” And as she thought it a slight movement in the room made her open her eyes. Merciful Heaven ! what was this? Here—now—unchanged, stand- ing not two yards from her, the dead man himself. She started to her feet with an irrepressible cry. Then staggered and would have fallen but he caught her in his strong arms. ‘Laura, can it be? Do you love me? Have you come yourself to bring the answer to my letter.” “Then you are not dead,” she gasped. “It was in the paper.” Howard looked pale, as from mental trouble, but otherwise was as unlike a dead man as need be. “Oh, I can easily explain that,” he said. Then exultingly: ‘ But you cared when you thought I was dead? Ah, then the answer is comicbooks.com