The Argosy — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

The Village Blacksmith. a 4. “I was only joking, little mother. You need not fear. There is mo one for me to run away with. I wish with all my heart there were ; it is all so dull and triste here I sometimes think I shall die of ennui. I would give anything to live, instead of existing as I do, and as the cows and the pony, and the cats and the dogs do. Mamma, did you never long for life, for real life? Did you never long to love and to suffer, to enjoy and to really exist ?” Mrs. Tempest sighed and drew the graceful, girlish figure to her, till Vera half-sat, half-lay at her mother’s feet, and rested her head on her knees, while Mrs. Tempest ran her beautiful white fingers through the golden, tawny hair. There was a strong likeness be- tween the two, though their expressions differed so much that the likeness was not striking ona brief acquaintance. The same mould might have served Dame Nature in which to cast the features of both ; but Mrs. Tempest’s hair was much darker, had always been much darker, than Vera’s, and her eyes were softer and less brilliant ; so the contrast between fair hair and dark eyes, so remarkable in Vera, was not one of Mrs. Tempest’s charms. The difference between the faces, however, lay deeper than mere difference of form or colour. The difference was that of two souls. One calm, peaceful, resigned, chastened by the discipline of life, though that timid, gentle soul had needed no severe chastisement. The other restless, wilful, passionate, undisciplined, thirsting for the happiness it felt it had the power to enjoy, yet brave to endure the suffering it might have to bear on its journey through life. Brave? Nay, rather bold. For he is bold who, at the beginning of life, dares to say he is strong enough to weather the storms he may encounter during the voyage before he gets safe into port. And Vera, -dimly suspecting that great joy and great sorrow are so intimately connected with each other that we can rarely entertain one without being favoured with a visit from the other, felt the craving for happi- ness so strong in her, that she boldly wished for both rather than make.the acquaintance of neither, Mrs. Tempest, whose gentle, saintly nature had never experienced such a passionate longing for happiness, trembled for Vera when she heard her give vent to these wild wishes. And on this occasion she resolved to tell her the history of her Aunt Véronique, of whom Vera often reminded her. Natalie Tempest, 2ée de Carteret, and her sister, Véronique, were educated in a Dominican convent in Normandy. Their own home was in the Auvergne, and, owing to the distance, they seldom went home for their holidays, but spent them with an uncle who lived at -Caen, where he practised as a physician. He had married an English lady, and it was here Natalie first met Mr. Ryot Tempest, a cousin of her aunt’s. He fell violently in love with the pretty, gentle French girl, and after a great deal of difficulty, the opposition of the parents on both sides was overcome, a dispensation was obtained, and Natalie, CONMUG NOOO SS CO