The Argosy — page 228: what you’re looking at

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

212 Recollections of a Governess. ‘ ‘ Little worthy of record occurred for some years after this. Sir Wil- liam died in December, 1838 ; and Lady Dacre a few months after. August 21, 1843.—Colonel Langton is coming to-day !| They have never met since that sad day, and now he is coming. Mr. Crayford is away, and Helen is to see him and hear particulars of young Harry Fos- ter, who had exchanged into his regiment. Poor boy, he was terribly wounded in his first engagement, and died in Colonel Langton’s tent. Helen was really fond of Harry. He spent a year’s leave here, and she grieved as much as Mr, Crayford over his early death. And now Helen must see him, speak to him, listen to his voice once more! See him, Guy Langton, calmly, as if those early dreams had never been. “Stay with me,” she said, and so we sat awaiting him. There was the sound of wheels coming up the avenue, then the door- bell rang, and Colonel Langton was announced. I had seated myself at the end of the room, and had my writing things before me. Helen crossed the’ room, gave him her hand, pointed with an indistinct mur- mur to the sofa, before she raised her eyes to look at him. When she did, the pale face grew even paler. Clasping her hands tightly together on her knee, she sat leaning forward, reading the tale written on his face. The strong hand which none may resist was laid upon him. His fight was nearly done. At last he spoke. ‘I have brought poor Harry Foster’s watch,” he said, ‘“‘his pocket-book, and a lock of hair he wished given to his uncle ; and his prayer-book, given by you, he begged might be given ‘you scnin, with his love. He was a fine young fellow, and would have been a good soldier.” He placed them on the table by her. ‘Poor boy,” she said; “ you brought him from the battle po ” “Yes.” ‘¢ And were wounded yourself doing it?” “Yes.” There was a pause. “I have more to tell you about poor Foster ; he was a good deal with me. You know he exchanged into my regiment from some boyish fancy he took to me?” She bowed her head: she knew well enough how often the boy had spoken of Colonel Langton in boyish admiration, as boys do speak, before head conquers heart. “He often spoke of you and of his uncle,” he continued, with effort, “‘and one day he told me the reason of your marriage.” He rose, walked to the window, came back, and stood beside her, “ Helen, the last time we met I was half mad with anger and disappointment. You will believe how often and how bitterly I have regretted the words I spoke then. You asked for forgiveness—and J-~—” ‘‘T am forgiven now,” she murmured. ‘I came to-day to ask yours, Helen, I have longed to live to do this.” ECORNICLOOO SS (CO) in —_)