The Argosy — page 277: what you’re looking at

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

258 Mrs. Raven’s Temptation. Evelyn felt that there were insolent meanings in her words, and her face burned. ‘I shall be able to help myself,” she said, with resolved quietness. ‘Thank you. You may go,” Charity withdrew without a word. And when Evelyn had finished her toilet, and ventured out of her room, feeling quite irresistible in a sea-green muslin robe, trimmed with white frills, she found herself rather at a loss which way to turn. For Ravenscourt was built on an old-fashioned plan, and was full of short corridors and corners and turns. However, after a few moments’ bewildered wandering, she encountered a homely-looking, respectful female servant, who volun- teered to lead her to the apartment where Mrs. Raven was likely to be. Mrs. Raven was there, but she was not alone. Seated in an arm- chair, quite comfortably, was an elderly clergyman, whom Evelyn guessed rightly to be the Vicar. She was not sorry that her little story about Frank should have so eligible an auditor. ‘“‘T have something for you, madam,” she said, addressing Mrs. Raven. “For I have had the pleasure of seeing young Mr. Raven in London. Huis cousin, Mr. Philip Connell, is a great friend of my adopted aunt, Miss Agate. Your son was good enough to entrust this to my keeping.” And she handed the parcel to the widow, allowing her own hands to linger on it for a moment, after the mother’s had taken it. What a strange, quiet woman this Mrs. Raven was, was Evelyn’s | reflection. For she only looked up with a quick, significant glance at her, and said, ‘Oh! thank you,” as if it was the most natural thing in the world that her son should be on speaking terms with her un- known, hired companion. It seemed to Evelyn almost as if the words did not reach the lady’s mind for some time after they had entered her ear. For there was a long pause before she added: “I am glad Frank has seen you. Now he will not think of his home as haunted by a strange figure.” Mr. Toynbee had heard Evelyn’s announcement with apparently much stronger interest. He had observed Evelyn intently from the moment she entered the room. Not because she was a pretty girl, though the good Vicar had a kindly eye for pretty girls, just as he had for his roses, or for any other fresh, sweet things. But it struck him that he had seen her somewhere before. When his eyes first rested on her, some old memory had started into sudden life and then sunk down, utterly dormant. Was it her face that he knew? Or the face of somebody like her? And under what circumstances had he previously seen her, or this resembling face? Odder still, two dif- ferent associations seemed to mix, the one having an atmosphere of interest and pity: the other of dislike and repulsion. ‘Ah! the world is very small, after all,” said the Vicar, in his cheery tones. ‘If one went to the backwoods of the west, or the northern territory of Australia, one would find that one’s next-door neighbour GomicbooksreGom