The Argosy — page 183: what you’re looking at

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

The Missing Rubies. 171 tnan to believe that he had an easy task before him. Outside. the door, his face changed and grew haggard and worn in a moment: His daughter met him in the corridor, and they paused together at one of the windows, speaking in low voices and with cautious glances around. **Are you sure of her firmness, Alma?” asked the Colonel, anxiously. “Quite sure, papa. She is the most obstinate girl I have ever known. Nothing on earth will make her give Godwin up. She does not care for money in the least. I never saw anyone so extra- ordinary ! ” “She will have to choose between her lover and a fortune, Alma. I am certain of that.” ‘She will not hesitate a moment. And if Mr. Redburn provokes her too far, she will run away.” “ He will provoke her to any extent,” said the Colonel, grimly. “You must not let her see any change in your manner, remember.” “Whatever happens, I am going to be sweet and sympathising. But I shall be very glad when all this is over, and she is really gone, never to come back anymore. It is a wearysome business.” ‘* But we shall reap the fruits by-and-bye. You are looking tired, Alma; keep up your spirits. You will know what to do with old Redburn’ $s money when it comes to you.” “*T shall know how to take care of it,” said Alma, quietly. No one who had seen the tight shutting of Miss Lindrick’s lips and marked the hard outlines of her aquiline nose and prominent chin would have doubted her ability to take care of money. And certainly no man, however near and dear to her, would ever succeed in luring her into spendthrift ways. In her hands, Mr, Redburn’s fortune would be safe indeed. Just then, a bell was heard to ring in the invalid’s room ; and father and daughter parted in haste. Blake was summoned to ‘dress his master. CHAPTER XVIII. AT OAK LODGE, Tue birds were twittering, chattering and fluttering about the flowery boughs. in Colonel Lindrick’s garden, and Beatrice was pacing up and down the walks with a musing look on her face. A night’s sleep had restored her spirits, but it had by no means quenched the burning desire to leave Fairbridge and return to town. The songs of the birds and the peace and beauty of the sunshine and the hour stole into the girl’s heart and made her feel that it was good to live. And et— x “The cuckoo-throb, the heart-beat of the spring; The rose-bud’s blush that leads it as it grows Into the full-eyed, fair, unblushing rose ;.’” comicbooks.com