The Argosy — page 227: what you’re looking at

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

Recollections of a Governess. 2U1 to the grave, I’ve read somewhere. My son was killed, and my daughter, I was saying, Langton, my daughter has left me—married, sir, married—but has worn this dress ever since—strange dress for a bride, eh, Mrs. Crayford ?” “‘ Father !” “Well, well, don’t be vexed, poor child; don’t be vexed. Yes, yes, I know; poor Edward, poor Edward! I wish you would put some of that crape on my hat, though.” Then he turned to his game, and seemed to forget there was anyone present. Helen rose, and moved a hittle distance from Sir William. “ Are you going to Langton ?” she said. “Yes; I am on my way there ; but the man who is driving me tells me the house is empty. I shall see the old place, and then join my father and sisters.” He spoke carelessly. Then, in a lowervoice: ‘Is all your poor father said true ? ” “ He is rather worse to-day,” Helen said. She was leaning against the bookcase, her face turned away from him. “ But is 1t “rue?” and he took her hand in his own. It was her left hand. She wore no rings but ¢4e one which separated them. He let it drop, said nothing, and turned to leave the room. ‘One moment,” she said; “I must speak. It was not my fault.” ‘“‘ Fault !” he repeated, bitterly. ‘‘Oh no! you were a child, and the absent are easily forgotten. I only wish that fellow had been a little more communicative, and I should not have made a fool of myself by coming round here. I hope Coonach is dead; is hep” “Ves,” said Helen, her eyes filling with tears, as she looked out of the window towards the old cherry-tree, ‘‘ he’s buried there,” and there was a far-away look in her eyes on the white blossoms. They were falling now just as they had fallen two years ago; but how different they seemed ! ‘“s Faithful old fellow !” with strong emphasis on the “‘ faithful.” “I’m glad of it. I wish / were.” “Oh, Guy,” she said, still watching the white blossoms—I don’t think she could meet his eyes—“ forget me.” He laughed. I longed to send him away. “Tl try,” he said, scornfully, “but it is not so easy for every one. Make my excuses to Lady Dacre. Good morning.” He took up his hat and turned to leave the room. One moment she clung to hisarm. ‘“ Guy, only say you forgive me,” she said, imploringly. ‘Why did you marry that man? Tell me that.” ‘¢T must not tell you, Guy, I cannot.” “ I beg your pardon,” he said, and with such bitterness—“ a question I had no right to ask.” ‘Guy, we shall never meet again. Have mercy; (say, you forgive me.” But he was gone. She heard him drive from the door, and then she fainted. Oh, my poor Helen ! comicbooks.cO inl ee