The Argosy — page 316: what you’re looking at

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

Laay Arabella. 299 for cousins than mine. A jungle tiger would be preferable, as an uncle, to old Faulconbridge.” “My dear!” expostulated Mrs. Mocourt, “‘there is not a more delightful man in the world than the Earl; such perfect manners, such + ‘T vote for the tiger,” interrupted Lady Arabella ; “‘he’d eat me up and have done. But my uncle wants to sell me to be baited, tortured, bound down, tied up, hampered, berated, be fi ‘My dearest child!” ‘Oh, I don’t care! I dare say it’s fast and wicked. So much the better! I vow, I’m driven out of my senses; and unless you want to send me to a mad-house, please don’t mention marriage or uncles in my hearing again.” ~ ‘Indeed, I will not,” replied the old lady, frightened into temporary submission. “ And mind, we will do everything they call wrong, because it’s sure to be enjoyable,” pursued Lady Arabella. ‘‘Wewill! If you put on that shocked look, Mrs. Mocourt, I’ll dress in boy’s clothes, and dance at Mabille; shoot peas at the public, and sing the Marseillaise in the opera-house! Be warned in time, you old darling !” So Lady Arabella did just what she would. She rode her demon- haunted Irish mare in the Bois de Boulogne, snubbed every English acquaintance who called upon her, was oblivious of the British Am- bassadress’s invitations, sent back her relatives’ letters unopened, and finally caused the family hair tostand on end bya scorching note to the Earl. The epistle was read in full family conclave by the Earl: and the spirit of prophecy seemed to enter his soul. ‘‘ What,” said his lordship, ‘‘ can be expected of the common herd when the daughter of an almost royal house avows her contempt for birth, station, all that keeps chaos aloof! It is democracy, radicalism —the offshoot of the hydra-headed monster which runs rampant in these days.” The Earl groaned, the family groaned ; but no echo of their lamenta- tions disturbed the Lady Arabella in her pleasant retreat far up the Champs Elysées. At last, the august conclave had to cease its moans from lack of breath, and allow this wayward scion of the race to follow her caprices in peace. They did not seem very dangerous caprices at present. Mrs. Mocourt consoled the Earl by a secret letter, giving an account of their quiet life. She was only obliged to chronicle one painful eccentricity on the part of her former pupil. Lady Arabella had seen fit to make a pet of a young bear, which she kept chained in the court- yard, reports of its escape frightening the whole neighbourhood into fits at least six timeseach day. The neighbourhood complained, the police interfered ; Arabella laughed in their faces, and stood by her bear. The COnniiclooo <S CO im