The Argosy — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

Selina Radcliffe's Home. 39 “It is always scaring me, Francis,” she whispered. ‘ There are times when I fancy Iam going to see it enacted before my eyes. It puts me into a state of nervous dread indescribable.” “See what enacted ?” he asked. “T sitting washere about ten days ago, Francis, thinking of you, thinking of the future, when all at once a most startling prevision—yes, I call it so—a prevision came upon me of some dreadful ill in store for you; ill wrought by Stephen. I—lI am not sure but it was—that— that he took your life,” she added, scarcely above her breath, and in a tone that made Francis shiver. “Why, what do you mean, mother?” *“‘ Every day, every day since, every night and nearly all night, that strange conviction has Jain upon me. I know it will be fulfilled: when the hand of death is closing on us, these previsions are an instinct. As surely as that I am now disclosing this to you, Francis, so surely will you fallin some way under the iron hand of Stephen.” ‘Perhaps you were dreaming, mother dear,” suggested Francis: for he had his share of common sense. “ Tt will be in this house; the Torr,” she went on, paying no atten- tion to him ; “for it is always these rooms and the dreary trees outside that seem to lie before me. For that reason, I would not have you live here a “ But don’t you think you may have been dreaming?” repeated Francis, interrupting the rest. “T was as wide awake as I am now, Francis, but I was deep in thought. It stole upon me, this impression, without any kind of warn- ing, or any train of ideas that could have led to it; and it lies within me, asure and settled conviction. Beware of Stephen. But oh, Francis! even while I give you this caution, I know that you will not ee the evil—whatever it may turn out to be.” “T hope I shall,” he said, rather lightly. ‘I'll try, at any rate.” “Well, I have warned you, Francis. Be always upon your guard. And keep away from the Torr, if you can.” Holt, quite an aged woman now, came in with some tea for her mis- tress. Francis took the opportunity to go down and see his father. Mr. Radcliffe, in a shabby old coat, was sitting in his arm-chair at the parlour fire. He looked pleased tosee Francis, and kept his hand for a minute after he had shaken it. “* My mother is very ill, sir,” said Francis. “ Ay,” replied the old man, dreamily. “Been so for some time now.” ‘“‘Can nothing be done to—to—keep her with us a little longer, father P” ‘*T suppose not. Ask Duffham.” “What the devil !—is it you! What brings you here?” ECOnNICLOOOKS (SO) mM