The Argosy — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

72 The Missing Rubtes. hearted girl he used to be so fond of! Well for him if he has taken a new love in her place !” She drew a long breath of relief, and went on murmuring to her- self, . “‘T was sallow and thin at that time, and my hair was a great deal darker than it isnow. I used to like to look as stupid and unattrac- tive as possible ; attractiveness would have done me no good then ! I was unhappy, too. It would have been impossible to have gone on living such a life.” Again she sighed heavily, as if some burden had just been lifted from her spirit. Slowly the soft flush came back into her rounded cheeks ; and she returned to the sofa, and made herself a nest of cushions. ‘If he were to meet me face to face, he would not recognise me ! ” she went on. “I must rest, and get over the shock, and prepare myself for any future surprises. I knew that there was some risk in coming back to England.” She curled herself upon the couch, still shivering a little, and half closed her eyes. The warmth of the fire was pleasant, and presently the shivering ceased altogether, and she lay still. The house was very quiet ; there were no footsteps on the stairs, no sounds in the hall below, and the silence soothed Madame Valerot’s quivering nerves and calmed her fears. But presently, from a room not far off, came the sweet music of harp-strings, that died away into the most tender cadence and then burst out softly again. Pauline Valerot had no musical powers ; yet, as she had her- self confessed, she could be strangely moved by certain kinds of melody. As she listened, the tears trembled on her long dark lashes, and al} that she had ever known of true peace came back to her heart. Vague childish memories, faint recollections of vanished faces and silent voices, began to flit through her brain. All the worry and agitation of the past few days was softly stilled, and the tired spirit drank in deep draughts of rest. Poor Pauline! It was long, indeed, since she had tasted the blessing of repose. There had been no comfort in the few months of her loveless marriage, although she had been admired and caressed, and loaded with those jewels for which she had sold herself, body and soul. Jewels! Even in her loneliest hours, she loved to look at them and deck herself with them. Their glitter was the only light that shone upon her dark path ; and yet some inward voice whispered that it was an evil splendour, and had led many women to destruction. But now, while she listened to those harp-notes, even the jewels were forgotten. And forgotten, too, was the journey from Paris, and the wearisome kindness of her friend in Bruton Street. She was glad to take refuge in this quiet house, where people seemed to move and speak softly.. And this music—this wonderful music, was gently comicbooks.com