The Argosy — page 170: what you’re looking at

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

158 The Missing Rubtes. producé a good impression. But of that inward anxiéty, not the faintest trace appeared. She was so still and queenly that the old - ladies were quite charmed with her high-bred air of repose. Jane Earle, who was three years younger than Dorothy, was just a shade less placid than her sister. She found more things in the world to admire, and more to lament over than Dorothy ever did. This lovely girl, with the deep-coloured eyes and soft, crimson lips, awoke something like warm feeling in that calm bosom of hers. The fresh, full bloom of Beatrice stirred up half-forgotten thoughts of youth and love. She hovered round the girl as a bee hovers round a flower, and began to talk to her. ‘ You must find Fairbridge very quiet after life in town,” she said, in her thin, pleasant voice. “I think it a charming old place,” Beatrice answered. “It is delightful to have one’s fill of flowers and sunshine.” “I do not care for London, myself,” said Aunt Jane; “and I really don’t think I could live without my flowers—my sisters call them my nurslings. This is such a sheltered spot that we seldom lose any of our plants in winter. Summer comes early to us and lingers long.” . ‘I can’t imagine that storms ever visit Fairbridge,” said Beatrice, with her girlish smile. ‘It seems to me to be something like the Lotus-eaters’ paradise—if one lived here too long, one might sink into dreamy forgetfulness of busy life. At least, some people might.” You would not, perhaps?” Jane said, smilingtoo. ‘The young like to see something of the world. I was never fond of gaiety, myself, but then I was rather delicate as a girl. I could not bear to be taken away from my greenhouses and garden.” Just then, Aunt Dorothy thought it proper to say a word to the new-comer. It was so seldom that any fresh face appeared in their circle that both the old ladies were really interested in Miss Ward. ’ Miss Lindrick says that you were delighted with the view from our old bridge,” she said, graciously. ‘It is very pretty, especially in spring ; and it was in May that Birket Foster liked the scene best. We must show you his water-colour drawing, done on the very spot where you were standing this morning.” She rose, moved a few paces down the long room, and pointed out the picture hanging on the wall It was charming enough to have kept Beatrice spell-bound, if her eyes had not lighted on another picture suspended beside it. Out of an oval frame there looked a fair, boyish face, done in crayons by an artist’s hand. There was almost a saintly sadness in the large, soft eyes ; an expression too pathetic for a child’s features ; a look that, when seen in early youth, is often the foreshadowing of future sorrow. If Beatrice had known that her composure was to be so sorely tried, she would never have entered Meadow House that day. At comicbooks.com