The Argosy — page 387: what you’re looking at

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

Beatrix. 367 you—before it was too late, as itis now. I could never tell you what I think of your conduct, so I won't try. I have done with women from this day forth. Ido not go so far as to wish you unhappiness—I could not wish you that—but I believe from my soul that deceitfulness never brought good to any one, and you yourself know well how far you have deceived me. You are merely a heartless flirt. I have no more to say to you.” And as he finished speaking he turned on his heel and moved away a few steps. But Miss Falkland was by no means satisfied that he should go just yet. Her slight anger during the commencement of his tirade had risen by degrees until at last it had reached a white heat. She had waxed very wrath indeed by this time, and was determined he should now listen to Aer line of argument, and receive what old ladies are wont to call a piece of their minds, before he went on his way this evening. So she began: ‘“‘Have you not? Are you quite certain you have finished all you wished to say? Well, then, perhaps now you will be so kind as to listen to me for a few moments. You have called me deceitful and dishonourable, but at all events 7 was never accused of playing spy upon anyone's actions. You are—or have been—up to this engaged to Felicia, and therefore by what right do you, an engaged man, take me, or any other girl, to task about this lover or that? Are you my father confessor that you consider me bound to tell you all my private affairs? What do you mean by coming down here to insult me, and be insolent to me?” ‘‘T certainly did not mean either to insult you or be insolent to you,” Curzon said. “T really cannot understand what you do mean,” Trixie replied, passionately ; “but, at all events, you Aave been most successfully insolent. You have called me deceitful, dishonourable, and a flirt. I wonder what all ¢#a¢ comes to. And now ”—drawing up her small figure scornfully, until she looked at least three inches taller in her righteous anger,—‘ and now let me tell you this: that man who kissed me and called me his darling was zof a lover, but my second brother, Captain George Falkland!” After which triumphant declaration Miss Falkland gathered together all her energies, and marched past the vanquished enemy into the house with flying colours. Said Curzon to himself: “Her brother George Falkland! Who would have thought ite Heaven and earth! what a fool I have made of myself !”’ And really, on the whole, I rather think he had. “Good evening, Miss Trixie,” said Lord Stainer from the top of the low garden-wall, where he had planted himself. It was the evening of the next day, and as yet the moral atmosphere was decidedly clouded. COMICHOOKS (C(O) —_)