The Argosy — page 348: what you’re looking at

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

328 The Master of Greylands. Capricious weather had once more changed ; the snow and frost given place to soft west winds and genial sunshine—and Madame Guise was shown into the reception parlour. Sisters Margaret and Betsey sat im it, and rose at her entrance. They had heard of this lady traveller, who had been detained on her journey by the illness of her little girl, and was Staying at the Dolphin; but they had not seen her. It was with some curiosity, therefore, that the ladies gazed to see what she was like. A slender, lady-like, nice-looking young woman, with blue eyes and fair hair, and who seemed to carry some care on her countenance. Madame Guise introduced herself ; apologising for her intrusion, and telling them at once its object. She wished to make some stay at Grey- lands, for she thought the pure air, the sea-breezes, would strengthen her child—could the ladies help her to some employment by which she might earn a trifle. She could teach music, French, or do fine needle- work ; embroidery and the like. The ladies answered her very kindly—they were both taken with the gentle stranger—but shook their heads to her petition: they had no help to give. “The children we bring up here are of poor parentage and do not need accomplishments,” said Sister Margaret. “If they did, we should teach them in the Nunnery : indeed we should be thankful to get pupils of a better class ourselves, for we are but poor. Sister Mona isa good French scholar ; and Sister Charlotte’s music 1s perfect. As to fine work, we do not know any one who requrres it to be done.” ‘Not but that we should have been glad to help you, if we could,” put in Sister Betsey, with a pleasant smile. Madame Guise rose, stifling a sigh. She saw exactly how it was— that the Grey Nunnery was about the last place able to assist her. In leaving the parlour, she met a lady, young and stately, who was entering it; one of wondrous beauty, tall, majestic, of gracious manner and presence. ‘Our Superior, Sister Mary Ursula,” said Sister Betsey. And Madame Guise knew that it was her husband’s cousin—for Miss. Castlemaine had joined the sisterhood some days past. She wore the clear muslin cap over her luxuriant hair, but not the grey habit, for she had not put aside the mourning for her father. In the magnificent dark eyes, in the bnght complexion, and in the beautiful features, Madame Guise saw the likeness to her husband and to the rest of the Castlemaines. Sister Mary Ursula bowed and said a few gracious words : Madame Guise responded with one of her elaborate French curtsies, and passed onwards through the gate. ‘¢So that hope has failed!” she thought as she crossed over to the inn. “I might have known it would : with so many accomplished ladies among themselves, they cannot want other people’s aid.” Buried in thought, Madame Guise did not go at once indoors, but ECoOMmicloooks (C(O) in —_)