The Argosy — page 197: what you’re looking at

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

182 Court Netherleigh. on, she growing more weary day by day. Lady Acorn called her obstinate ; sometimes Adela retaliated. At last, the Countess, losing all patience, wrote to Margery Upton to say she should send her for a little change to Court Netherleigh ; she being quite unaware of the critical state of Miss Upton’s health. And this was the first time, this morning when we see Miss Upton and Adela sitting together, that any special conversation had been held between them. ‘The previous day had been one of Miss Margery’s ‘bad days,” when she was confined to the sofa in her chamber, and she had only been able to see Adela for a minute or two, to bid her welcome. Miss Upton, criticising Adela’s appear- ance by the morning light, found her looking very poorly, but she quite believed her to be just as graceless as ever. ‘Times and things change for all of us, Adela,” observed she, con- tinuing the conversation. ‘‘ They have changed very especially for you.” Lady Adela raised her face, something like defiance in it. Was the miserable past to be recalled to her /eve, as well as at home ? — was she going to be perpetually lectured upon its fruits, as her mother lectured her ? She was wretched enough herself about it, heaven knew, and would undo it if she could; but that was no reason why all the world should be for ever casting it in her teeth. She answered tartly. ‘“The past 1s over, Aunt Margery, and the less said about it the better. To be told of it will do meno good.” Aunt Margery did not like the tone. Could this mistaken girl— she really looked but as a girl—be extenuating the past, and her own conduct in it P ‘* Do you know what I said, child, when the news reached me of all you had done, and I thought of the consequences to you it might involve ? I said—and I spoke truly—that I would rather have seen you in your grave.” ‘Said it to mamma, I suppose ?” “No. I tried to excuse you to fer. I said it to your husband.” “* Qh—to him,” said Adela, assuming an indifference she did not feel. “And I am not sure but death might have been a happier fate for you than this that you have brought upon yourself—disgrace, the neglect of the world, and a dreary, purposeless, aimless life.” It might have been. Adela felt it so to her heart’s core. She bit her lips to conceal their trembling. ‘All the same, Aunt Margery, he was harsher than he need have been.” ‘Who was ?” Mr. Grubb.” ‘Do you think so, Adela—remembering your scorn and cruelty? My only wonder was, that he had not emancipated himself from it long before.” Eomichbooks. co