The Argosy — page 388: what you’re looking at

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

368 | Beatrix. “Good evening,” returned Miss Falkland, and made a very stately inclination of her head to the raspberry-bush opposite which she was standing. “It is a fine evening, is it not, Miss Trixie?” began his lordship again, turning round so that his legs were :nside the garden-wall this time. “Very,” Beatrix answered, uncompromisingly. A pause. . “Well,” Curzon said presently, apostrophising a distant apple-tree, “in my young days I remember there used to be such a thing as hospitality. You are going to ask me to eat some of your fruit, Miss ‘Trixie, are not you ?” ‘¢T do not suppose I could keep you out, even if I tried,” Beatrix sald. ‘¢ Which means that I have your permission to descend,” declared Curzon, and, at once dropping down from the wall, he came over to where she was standing. ‘Good evening,” he said again, and held out his hand. | ‘‘T am very sorry,” said Miss Falkland coldly, “but I have so stained my hand with raspberry-juice that I could not dream of put- ting it into yours.” ‘‘Dear me, so you have,” Stainer exclaimed, with evident concern. ** What a pity! what a shame so to ruin such extremely lovely little hands. Shall I help youe” he went on pleasantly—he was the laziest fel- Jow alive— shall I? I should like to very much, if you will allow me. I daresay I could learn to pick raspberries if I tned ; and when I have brought my fingers to the correct colour, perhaps “Aen you might not object to put your hand in mine. If I help you, Miss Falkland, will you ask me in to teaP” ‘“‘T am quite sure Aunt Dorothy will be very charmed to see you,” answered Aunt Dorothy’s niece, with a great amount of dignity. Stainer picked one raspberry and then flung it away. ‘“ Beatrix, won’t you forgive me?” he said, and caught both her hands in his. ‘T don’t think I ought to,” Beatrix answered in a low tone, and then in another moment he had her in his arms, and was kissing her with all his heart. “My dear Love!” he said presently, when they had both swom that nothing on earth should ever make either of them say an unkind word to the other again—“ my dear love, what a mistake I made, and what a jealous wretch of a husband you are getting!” As he spoke he held her very closely to him, and looked as handsome and proud and happy as any young fellow could well look. ‘You will never be jealous of me,” Beatrix told him seriously, “ be- cause you know, Curzon, nobody could ever even seem to_be the same to me that you are.” Whereupon he kissed her again: ECoOMmicloooks (CO) in —_)