Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 181: what you’re looking at

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

172 “Will this suit your lordship? ” she asked half shyly, half jestingly. He took it and pinned it on his coat and gave her in return a twig that he had gathered. ““ See,” he said, “ if you care for me, treasure this as I shall treasure yours. And, Jean, some day perchance I may redeem the flower? ” “ Never until you have proven your- self worthy of your spurs,’ she an- swered, but her fingers tightened over the bit of maiden’s pride she held. ‘Then, when I come, blade in hand, may I hope that you will look with fa- vor on my suit?” The question died on the jasmine scented air, unanswered, for a horse- man galloped up the road and drew rein before the door. “TI give you greeting, Cousin Jean,” he said, dofhing his plumed hat, “ and to vou also, Ravenscroft,” he added. “TI thank you,” answered Sir Peyton, while the girl stretched out her hands in welcome, as though well pleased. He caught them eagerly in his and forgot the one cousin in looking into the other’s eyes. “Where did you come from, Vaughan?” It was Ravenscroft’s voice and it recalled him to himself. ‘Elm Hill,” he said, dropping the girl’s hands with a start. They sat down upon the steps and the girl began to sort the flowers that lay in the flat basket by her side. Such flowers !—mock magnolias, 1n all their creamy beauty, jasmines, white and yellow and fragrant with a fragrance that no other flower can know; roses, varying from the pale blush to those of deepest dye; larkspur, rosemary and lad’s love, and in the midst of all a spray of maiden’s pride. They helped her in their clumsy fash- ion, sitting on the steps below her, one on either side and looking up and smil- ing for sheer joy of youth and love. In a desultory way they talked of England and the war, and once Vaughan caught her hand in his long, slender, nervous fingers and asked her THE ARGOSY. laughingly if she would weep were he to fall. She silenced him with a re- proachful look. “ Do you think my heart is made of stone, Sir Richard? ” she questioned. Vaughan sighed—he had hoped for more—he could not have said what. Presently Ravenscroft rose to leave. He stooped and kissed her hand in token of farewell, and then held out his own to Vaughan. “Nay, tarry with us yet a little while,” the girl exclaimed, raising her smiling eyes to his; “ methinks this is unseemly haste—but perchance Mis- tress Dorothy Fairfax is waiting to re- ceive you?” ‘“ How can you speak so? ” he asked half angrily. “ You know right well I have not seen Mistress Dorothy for over a fortnight! ”’ “ Aye, end so the reason for your haste?” called the girl after him as he rode away; but she watched him until the holly trees hid him from her sight and when she turned to Vaughan the smile still lingered in her eyes. “Ah, Jean,” he said as he impris-- oned both her hands in his, “ you care for him, do you not?” The girl threw back her head with a little gesture of disdain. “And may I ask, Sir Richard, who gave you leave to question me so rudely?” “I crave your pardon,” he answered, while the shadows deepened in his eyes, “TI crave your pardon a hundredfold but my own heart pain made me hasty in my speech.” The anger vanished from her face and for a moment she stood motionless before him, reading in his own full well the hidden meaning of his words. “Tell me,” he said, “is it Ravens- croft or me you pity most?” “TI knew not that either you or he needed my pity.” “Aye, verily,” said Vaughan, “ for do you not remember that pity is z<kin to—love?” Her ladyship smiled. “ Then I know not which I pity more,” she said. pny donnnic oO SS) eo