The Argosy — page 243: what you’re looking at

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

226 A Story of the Sea-shore. “ Born in the what ?” Tom had turned his honest and surprised eyes upon her. “He does not even understand that,” she thought. “It is a saying my father sometimes uses, Tom,” she said, laughing, “ to denote those of high birth.” ‘Those of high birth” were nothing to Tom Reece and Serena just now. They paced hither and thither on the greensward, of themselves and of the future. Serena confessed she should like to go out and see the world; Tom said he would take her out to it as soon as she was his wife. “Oh, Tom, there’s the bell!” she exclaimed, as a little bell from the fishing mart tinkled out and aroused them. “It is five o’clock, father’s tea-time; he will wonder what has become of me.” They turned to walk towards her home; and just then the same carriage came bowling down on its return. The elderly gentleman pulled up. ‘“Can you tell me, my man,” he said, while the younger one lifted his hat to Serena in silence, ‘“‘ where a certain piece of high land that is called the Beacon is situated? We cannot find it.” ‘Tt lies a mile or two on the other side the village,” replied Tom. ‘You cannot well miss it, from its height. Anyone will direct you.” “Thank you: we went the wrong way then. Thank you very much,” repeated the courteous man, and drove on. | And Serena’s lovely face had been full of blushes the whole short minute of the stoppage. For the extremely handsome and refined younger man had given her glance after glance of respectful admi- ration; and he lifted his hat again as they drove away, as he might have lifted it to some high duchess. And Serena, as though she had totally forgotten that her lover was there, walked away home- wards with a fleet foot, leaving him to himself, and never giving a glance behind her. Tom heaved a sigh, as he bore across the grass to his own home —which lay inland, at some little distance. ‘““She is rather strange,” he said to himself. ‘‘I have never under- stood her. Quite different from the fisher-girls about here.” Tom might well say so. She was different. «‘ She’s strange, the women say, strange and romantic—whatever that last may mean,” thought the simple-hearted sailor. ‘ It will be all right though, now she has promised to be mine; and I am at rest. Serena would never go from her promise. One thing is sure and certain—though she does not love me yet, she loves nobody else.” 5 ‘‘ Father,” said Serena, as she went indoors and nestled down by his knees, “‘I have promised to marry Thomas Reece Are you pleased ?” ‘Ay, that I am,” murmured the father, stroking her bright hair. Gomicbooks “Sy