The Argosy — page 226: what you’re looking at

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

210 Recollections of a Governess. taken her usual seat, and involuntarily made room for Coonach. Then the recollection came over her, and she dashed the tears away, bending over her work to hide them. He went up to her. “ Helen,” he said, ‘“‘ I would give my right hand to bring him back.” She did not speak. ‘Forgive me, Helen,” he continued ; “ I cannot forgive myself.” “It was the only thing I had to love,” she sobbed. “ True, Helen,” he said, gently ; “‘but not the only thing that loves you.” I was so glad : she raised her face and let him kiss her cheek.’ May 15.—Sir William’s mind has failed rapidly the last few months, since his son’s death, and Helen has been constantly with us at Cherry Court, relieving her mother, who feels the loss of his mental powers far more than she did his bad health: and so this afternoon she was sit- ting quietly helping him in his game of patience (how much need she had of it herself,) when a visitor was announced, a gentleman who did not give his name—should he be admitted? She did not know Captain Langton had landed from the East Indies. He had heard of his mother’s death before he left, but not that his father and sisters had gone to Italy. He had taken the night mail which stops at Wernbury, and on his way to Langton drove round by Cherry Court. She did not know this. She stood face to face with him, her lips apart, as if to speak, and so I found them when Sir Wil- liam told me to open the door and I followed her out. ‘¢ Helen !” he said, both his hands outstretched to take hers. Her father’s voice: ‘‘ Helen, Helen! where are you? What are you doing? You take no notice of me. Why am] left with the door open in this way?” She instantly passed into the room, and, bending over him, “ Father,” she said, “‘ you remember Captain Langton ?” ‘‘ Langton, Langton,” repeated Sir William; ‘‘he was member for the county many years ago.” ‘“‘-Ves, dear papa, his father was: this is his son, Guy Langton;” and her voice trembled. “Ah! I forget strangely. You are welcome, Captain Langton;” and he extended his hand with something of his old pleasant manner. ‘‘ Lady Dacre would be happy to see you, I have no douht, but she is ill—confined to her room.” ‘Not ill, dear father, only gone for a walk.” “She is ill,” repeated the invalid, vehemently. ‘I have not seen her for some days. Everything I say is contradicted. I must know best, and yet everyone contradicts me. My son, my poor boy is dead, sir, you won't contradict ‘hat, I suppose?” he said,» peevishly.) 0“ My daughter has left me—and my only son dead—my grey hairs with sorrow (CL O)(O)©) SS (C(O) in —_)