The Argosy — page 194: what you’re looking at

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

Court Netherleigh. 179 stand open whenever the sun shone or the air was balmy, are closed to-day. On the table at her elbow lies a book of devotion half closed, her spectacles resting between the leaves; one of those books that the gay and busy world turn from as being so gloomy, and that bring comfort so great to those who are leaving it. Margery Upton sits back in her chair, looking up at the blue heavens, where she is so soon to be. “T cannot help wishing sometimes,” she began in a low dreamy tone, ‘“‘that more decided revelation of what Heaven will be had been vouchsafed to us. I mean as to our own state there, our work, our occupations. ‘Though I suppose that all work—work, as we call it here—will be as rest there. We know that we shall be in a state of happiness, of bliss beyond conception; but we know not precisely of what it will consist.” ‘“‘I suppose we were not meant to know,” replied the young lady to whom she spoke, and who sat apart on the green satin sofa, her elbow resting on one arm of it, her delicate hand shading her face. The tone of her voice was weary and depressed, the other hand lay listless on her coloured muslin dress. ‘‘Time enough for that, perhaps, when we get there—those who do,” ‘“Ton’t be irreverent,” came the quick reproof. “Trreverent! JI did not mean to be so, Aunt Margery.” “You used to be irreverent enough, Lady Adela. As the world knows.” ‘“Ay; used. ‘Times and things have changed for me.” It was indeed the Lady Adela sitting there. But she was altered in looks almost as much as Miss Margery. ‘The once careless, saucy, haughty girl had grown sad, her manner utterly spiritless, the once blooming face was pale and thin. Yesterday only had she come to Court Netherleigh, following on a communication from Lady Acorn. “TI can do nothing with her; she ts utterly self-willed and obstinate ; I shall send her to you for a little while, Margery,” wrote Lady Acorn to Miss Upton: and Margery Upton had written back that she might come. That a wave of trouble had swept over Lady Adela, leaving desola- tion and despair behind it, was all too palpable. ‘To be put away by her husband in the face of her own family and of the world, was to her proud spirit the very bitterest blow possible to be inflicted on it ; a cruel mortification, that she would never quite lose the sting of so long as life should last. On the very day the separation was decided upon, not an hour after Mr. Grubb left her in her, chamber after apprising her of it, Lord Acorn, as you have read, came to the house, and took her from it with little ceremony. His usual débonnaire indifference had given place to a sternness against which there could be no thoughtof rebellion. She took up her abode at Chenevix House that day, and Davvy followed with the possessions that belonged to her. She was not CONNICLOOKS.EO