The Argosy — page 271: what you’re looking at

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

The Master of Greylands. 253 with circumstances. Then she had a happy home of splendour, an indulgent father, riches that seemed unbounded at command, the smiles of the gay world, and a lover to whom she was shortly to be united. Now she had none of these: all had been wrested from her at one fell swoop. To the outward world she had seemed to take her misfortunes calmly : but none knew how they had wrung her very soul. It had seemed to her that her heart was broken: it seemed to her as though . some retired and quiet place to rest in, were absolutely needful while she recovered, if she ever did recover, the effects of these calamities. But she did not want to sit down under her grief and nourish it: she had prayed earnestly, and did still pray, that it would please Heaven to enable her to find consolation in her future life, and that it might be one of usefulness to others, as it could not be one of happiness to herself. But a provision lay upon her that happiness would eventually come ; that in persevering in her laid-out path, she should find it. “The sooner I enter upon it, the better,” she said, rising from her chair and shaking out the crape folds of her black silk dress. ‘‘And there’s nothing to wait for, now that I have broken it to my uncle.” Glancing at her own face as she passed a mirror, she halted to look at the change that trouble had made in it.’ Others might not notice it, but to herself it was very perceptible. The beautiful features were thinner than of yore, the cheeks bore a fainter rose-colour ; her stately form had lost somewhat of its roundness. Ah, it was not her own sor- row that had mostly told upon Mary Castlemaine ; it was the sudden death of her father; and the agonizing doubt attending on it, ‘Tf I could but know that it was God’s own will that he should die! ” she uttered, raising her hands in supplication. ‘ And there’s that other dreadful trouble—that awful doubt—about poor Anthony !” Descending the stairs, she opened the door of the red parlour, and entered on a scene of turbulence. Miss Flora was in one of her most spiteful and provoking humours, and was trying to kick Ethel, who held her at arms’ length. Her pretty face was inflamed, her pretty hair hung wild—and Flora’s face and hair were both as pretty as they could well be. ‘¢ Flora!” said Miss Castlemaine, advancing to therescue. “Flora for shame! Unless I had seen you in this passion, I had not believed it.” ‘© T will kick her, then! It’s through her I did not go with mamma in the carriage to Stilborough.” ‘¢Tt was mamma who would not take you,” said Ethel. ‘She said she had some private business there, and did not want you with her.” ‘She would have taken me; you know she would; but for your telling her I had not done my French exercise, you ugly, spiteful thing.” ‘‘ She asked me whether you had done it, and I said no.” ECoOMmicloooks (C(O)