The Argosy — page 131: what you’re looking at

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

118 Verena Fontaines Rebeliton. Back came Ozias in a minute or two. ‘‘ Miss Verena, she no up- stairs, sir. She no anywhere.” Of all the frowns that ever made a face ugly, the worst sat on Sir Dace Fontaine’s, as he turned to Coralie. ‘‘ Have you let her go out ?” he asked. ‘Why of course she is not out, papa,” answered Coralie, calm and smiling as usual. ‘‘ Let Esther go into Miss Verena’s room, Ozias, and ask her to come down at once.” ‘‘ Esther go this last time, Miss Coralie. She come down and say, Ozias, Miss Verena no upstairs at all; she go out.” ‘“ How dare ——” began Sir Dace; but Coralie interrupted him. ‘Papa, I will go and see. I am sure Verena cannot be out; [am sure she 1s zo¢. She went into her room to dress when I went into mine. She came to me while she was dressing asking me to lend her my pearl comb; she had just broken one of the teeth of her own. She meant to come down to dinner then and was dressing for it: she had no thought of going out.”’ Coralie halted at the door to say all this, and then ran up the stairs. She came down crest-fallen. Verena had stolen a march on them. In Sir Dace Fontaine’s passionate anger, he explained the whole to us, taking but a few short sentences to doit. Verena had been beguiled into a marriage engagement with Edward Pym: he, Sir Dace, had forbidden her to go out of the house to meet him ; and, as it appeared, she had set his authority at defiance. They were no doubt tramping off now to some place of amusement; a theatre, perhaps: the past evening they had gone to Madame Tus- saud’s. ‘‘ Will you take in Miss Fontaine, Squire,” concluded Sir Dace, with never a break between that and the explanation. How dark and sullen he looked, I can recal even now. Deprived of my promised partner, Verena, I went down alone. Sir Dace following with Jack, into whose arm he put his own. ‘‘T wish you joy of your chief officer, Captain Tanerton!” cried he, asardonic smile on his lips. It must have been, I suppose, about nine o’clock. We were al} back in the drawing-room, and Coralie had been singing. But some- how the song fell flat ; the contretemps about Verena, or perhaps the ~ sullenness it had left on Sir Dace, produced a sense of general dis- comfort; and nobody asked for another. Coralie took her dainty work-box off a side-table, and sat down by me on the sofa. ‘‘T may as well take up my netting, as not,” she said to me in an under tone. ‘‘ Verena began a new collar to-day—which she will be six months finishing, if she ever finishes it at all. She dislikes the work; I love it.” Netting was the work most in vogue at that time. Mrs. Todhetley had just netted herself a cap. ‘Do you think we shall see yom sister to-night ?” I asked of Coralie in a whisper. ECORNIECLIOOKS Oia