The Argosy — page 244: what you’re looking at

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

Fenny Morris's Voyage. 229 instant without your aid. You are a false, unkind woman; yes, I dare to tell you so: and Heaven hears me say it.” Mr. Dacey, his whole frame heaving with anger and pity, caught the hapless girl and bore her to her cabin. Her poor face was scarlet with shame, and the scalding tears of distress began to trickle down. “‘T shall attend upon you myself, Jenny,’ said Mr. Dacey, calling her by her Christian name for the first time. “T wish it might be—but you know it must not,” she answered amid her blinding tears. ‘Listen, Jenny,” said Mr. Dacey, standing before her with his arms folded. ‘‘ It has been my intention for some time past not to lose sight of you until I could hand you over to your sister and Mr. West. They are my very good friends.” ‘‘Vour friends !” exclaimed Jenny in amazement. “Yes. And it was your likeness to Mrs. West that first attracted me to you. I have been cherishing a presumptuous hope, Jenny—that you will sometime be my wife. Oh, hear me, my darling, for I am serious. J think that time has now come. And I love you with my whole heart. You need a protector.” What did Jenny Morris say? Never a word. She was too be- wildered. Too bewildered even to box his ears when he kissed her. But it took a long time to convince her that his arguments held reason, and they disputed it out. She, being a woman, had to yield, of course. “Jenny, my life and soul,” he fervently said, when it came to an end, “if I do not repay you for this by being a devoted husband, never trust me again. Mr. Blair is not the man I should have selected to make us one. But he’s a minister of the Gospel, for all that, and we can’t pick and choose under present circumstances. I think he may be trusted to keep the secret. | An hour later, when the ship was quiet and lights were put out in the private berths, the Rev. Mr. Blair went into the captain’s state room. The captain was there waiting for him, and also Mr. Dacey and Jenny. A short ceremony was gone through, and then the party separately dispersed. It was nearly a fortnight before Jenny sate on deck again. During that time neither Mrs. Webb nor Mr. Bumble ever approached her to inquire about her sprained ankle or offer her any aid. It was a fact, and a disgraceful one. Madame Freep incensed them both against her; and they were entirely under Madame’s dominion—for her sweets and other good things did not come to an end. Madame had, in fact, cast an admiring eye on the only good-looking man-on board, Francis Dacey : and—there’s a saying of Shakespeare’s or somebody’s, ‘“* Hell has no*fury like a woman scorned.” Jenny, who did not seem to be made utterly miserable by the COnnicloolxs (CS)