The Argosy — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

78 Gwen's Lover. that was wrong about Gwen’s lover was that she did not say anything to her father about his coming. Well, one evening, when the nights were beginning to get pretty cold, Mr. Owen went up stairs as usual; and whether he went to a little study he had, or whether he went to bed, Gwen did not know and did not care. She knew he would certainly not come down again that night ; and accordingly she opened the door and let in her sweet- heart to spend an hour with her. | He was rather chilled with having waited longer than usual for her, so she drew up a settle with a high back close to the fire, and they sat down very comfortably and began to talk. I do not know what they talked about; but so absorbing was the nature of their conversa- tion, that they never heard or saw anything, till all of a sudden Mr. Owen looked over the top of the high back of the settle and said: “Good evening, my young friend ; I am very glad to see you.” Gwen jumped up in a great hurry ; William Morgan’s arm remained stretched out for all the world as if it had been round her waist; and Mr. Owen came round the settle to the hearth. “It 1s a long time since I saw you,” he went on, quite cheerfully and pleasantly ; ‘“‘a long time; and I should like very much to have a little talk with you.. Will you come up stairs with me to my study? I am very glad to see you here to-night.” The young man looked at Gwen, and Gwen looked at him, but they neither of them dared to say a word. Mr. Owen turned round and led the way up stairs, and as the young man followed\him, Gwen gave him a little encouraging nod, just as much as to say, ‘ [’ll wait here for you till you come back.” Mr. Owen walked slowly up the stairs and into his study, and Gwen’s sweetheart went after him, very much puzzled what was going to happen next. There was no fire upstairs, but there was a candle burning, and the big Bible open, with Mr. Owen’s spectacles lying on it as 1f he had been reading ; and the big chair a little pushed back from the table, as he had pushed it when he got up and came down into the kitchen so unexpectedly. “Take a seat,” he said, giving the young man a chair. “It would be a great pleasure to me to see you here oftener, and to have a little reading together. But at any rate, we will take this oppor- tunity. Jl read a chapter and expound a little as we go on.” “But, Mr. Owen,” said the young man, ‘‘is not it getting late, please?” Mr. Owen was turning over the leaves meantime, and did not seem to hear him at all. It was a big old Bible, with a black binding and metal clasps, and with the Apocrypha in it. Perhaps you mayn’t have read the Apocrypha—so I may as well tell you that it contains some very long chapters—particularly in the first book of Maccabees, where they are mostly over sixty verses. The second, for instance, is seventy, and the tenth eighty-nine verses ORE, and all about the wars of the Jews. ECORNIELOOOKS .~E@