The Argosy — page 180: what you’re looking at

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

Lhe Mysteries of fleron Dyke. 165 the evening more attractive to him, she had, in any case, asked her uncle to allow her to invite the Vicar and Maria, Lady Cleeve and Philip, and Captain Lennox and his sister, to meet Mr. Conroy at dinner. But here the Squire proved obstinate. Not one of the people named would he invite, or indeed anyone else. ‘‘ That young artist fellow is welcome to come and take pot-luck with us,” he said, ‘‘ but I’ll have none of the rest. And why I asked him, I’m sure I don’t know. There wassomething about him, I suppose, that took my fancy: though what right an invalid man like me has to have fancies, is more than I can tell.” Conroy seemed quite content to find himself the solitary guest. Ella was more reserved and silent than he had hitherto seen her, but he strove to interest her and melt her reserve; and after a time he succeeded in doing so. Once or twice, at first, when she caught herself talking to him with animation, or even questioning him with regard to this or the other, she suddenly subsided into silence, blushing inwardly as she recognised how futile her resolves and intentions had proved themselves to be. Conroy seemed not to notice these abrupt changes, and in a little while Ella would again become interested, again her eyes would sparkle, and eager questions tremble on her lips. ‘Then all at once an inward sting would prick her, her lips would harden into marble firmness and silence. But these alternations of mood could not last for ever; and by-and-by the charm and fascination of the situation proved too much for her. ‘‘ After this evening I shall probably never see him again,” she pleaded to herself, as if arguing with some inward monitor. “‘ What harm can there be if I enjoy these few brief hours?” Mr. Denison was more than usually silent. Now and then, after dinner, he dozed for a few minutes in his huge leathern chair ; and presently, as though he yearned to be alone, he suggested that Conroy and Ella should take a turn in the grounds. Ella wrapped a fleecy shawl round her white dress and they set out. ‘races of sunset splendour still lingered in the western sky, but from minute to minute the dying colours changed and deepened : saffron flecked with gold fading into sea-green, and that into a succes- sion of soft opaline tints and pearly greys edged here and there with delicate amber: while in mid-sky the drowsy wings of darkness were creeping slowly down. They walked on through the dewy twilight glades of the park. Conroy seemed all at once to have lost his speech. Neither of them had much to say, but to both the silence exhaled a subtle sweetness. There are moments when words seem a superfluity—almost an im- pertinence. To live, to breathe—to feel that beside you is the living, breathing presence of the one supremely loved, is all that you ask for. It is well, perhaps, that such sweetly dangerous moments come so seldom in a lifetime. They left the park by a wicket, took a winding footway through COMIC HOO SS (CO)