The Argosy — page 269: what you’re looking at

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

A Secret of the Sea. 255 old orange woman who had broken her arm through slipping on the ice ; and a young mother whose husband lay ill of a fever in the hospital. Gerald, glancing now and again into the beautiful face beside him, felt his heart thrill strangely. He would have dearly hiked to fling his arms about her and print a thousand kisses on her lips. “What is the latest news of the little waif?” asked Gerald, sud- denly, after a pause. “I have no news other than that which you know already.” ‘‘ Then she has not been claimed ? ” ““No. She is still under Mrs. Nixon’s care.” “Tt is not at all likely that anyone will now come forward and claim her.” “T hope with all my heart that they won’t. Those to whom she belonged left her to be found by a stranger, or to perish ; and after such an act as that they can hardly want to reclaim her.” ‘“‘T should think that they would hardly dare do so.” “The law would surely punish a deed so detestable. But I have little fear of anyone coming forward. I feel that the child belongs to me, and to me alone.” ‘‘ Have I, then, no share in her?” asked Gerald, with a smile. ‘‘ It was agreed that you should give your share over to me,” answered | Eleanor. ‘*¥ may at least be allowed to feel a little interest in the child’s _ future fortunes.” “As deep an interest as you like. You are her preserver, and yours shall be the first name that she shall be taught to speak. But for all that, you must let me claim her as altogether my own.” ‘ Oh, with all my heart. I should make a very poor guardian, I am afraid, for such a wee morsel of humanity.” “T have regular accounts from Mrs. Nixon every two or three days, and next week I am going down to Stammars to see her.” “I wish she only thought half as much of me as she does of that young customer down at Stammars ! ” said Gerald, rather disconsolately, to himself when he had parted from Eleanor. ‘‘ What has come over you, child?” said Lady Dudgeon to Eleanor, two or three days afterwards. ‘‘ This is the third time this morning that I have caught you ina day-dream. Anyone who did not know better would certainly say that you were in love.” ‘Then they would certainly say what was not true,” said Eleanor, with a blush and a smile. “T hope so, I am sure,” said her ladyship, emphatically. “I don’t think your time has come yet, dear.” Eleanor was used to Lady Dudgeon’s phraseo'ogy, and did not reply. No ; she certainly was not in love, she said to herself. But it was EOMRniilElooe SS (CO)