The Argosy — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

142 The Grey Cottage. Leonard, my nephew, was a clever and amusing young fellow, holding strong views on many subjects, and propounding them with all the energy and decision of youth and inexperience. Old customs and old beliefs were not good enough for him—“* nous avons changé tout cela” was his motto. I do not think ‘he really believed, or rather disbelieved, all he pretended to do. He liked to startle us, and delighted in shocking the prejudices of his cousins, especially of Hilda, who was a warm. partizan of that very ultra school of theology which is now so prevalent amongst the young and imaginative. On one point, however, they both agreed—a strong disbelief in the supernatural. The evening of the party arrived, and brought our guests. Six- teen in all, including our own young people; I made the seventeenth. The time passed pleasantly, and lastly dancing was introduced. They had had a few quadrilles, when one gentleman had to leave, to catch a midnight train: and when a double set of Lancers was formed after his departure, one was lacking to make it up. There were only fifteen. You may think it strange I should enter into such par- ticulars, but you will see. ‘You must do double duty, Leonard,” I said. “No, aunt,” exclaimed Hilda, with a saucy smile. ‘* You shall invite old Mr. Vallyer to join us. I wish he would !” All laughed; and then our neighbour, Mrs, Goldsmith, a tall, handsome woman, called out that she had no objection to dance with the old gentleman—should like to. ‘‘See, here he is!” she went on, making a bow to the sofa cushion in her careless merriment, and taking it up in her arms. ‘‘ You are not accustomed to dancing, sir, so we will go to the side. Now let us begin.” I had been so used to playing dance music, that I did it quite mechanically, often turning half round on the music stool to watch the dancers while my fingers were busy. My nieces were fine-look- ing girls, and I liked to follow Hilda’s striking figure and Cecily’s quiet grace as they moved through the mazes of the dance. After striking up the first inspiriting chords of the Lancers, I turned to see how Mrs. Goldsmith was getting on with her “ partner.” She stood opposite to Cecily and young Kirby, a rising engineer, with whom she was dancing. Hilda and Leonard were at the bottom of the set. There was a good deal of laughing at the ur at first, but it soon subsided, and I was glad of it, for I had fatigued myself much in preparing for our little entertainment ; my head ached now, and the mirth jarred upon my nerves. I began to feel in that stage of weariness when voices sound far off; when the hands work on at whatever occupies them, without help from the brain; when the thoughts roam away and the eye sees things mistily. It suddenly struck me that the room was growing verycold. Just as Mrs. Gold- smith was passing me, cushion in arm, I felt a shiver. ECORNICLOOKS (EO) m