The Argosy — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

Mrs. Raven's Temptation. 99 ‘You are a good fellow to say that, Philip, for you know it will make it pleasanter for me.” Frank remained where he was—in Philip’s bed-room. He tried to 7occupy himself with one of the quarterly journals lying about. But it would not do. Waiting and waiting, he thought Philip never would come back. But that gentleman was doing his best to despatch his errands with his usual airy brevity. He had not found Louisa’s mind’ quite so easy to ‘‘reassure” as he had imagined. His declarations that the witch had made an utter mistake in the matter of Frank, and had talked to him unintelligible nonsense, did not seem to calm her. She would go back to her own interview. If this woman had no truth to tell anybody else, then it was but the stranger she should have had something so much like truth to tell her. Philip listened to this, and listened to that, and leaped out of his bewilderment to the shrewd conclusion that his sister was thoroughly unhappy and unhinged, and that she had put forward the event of this woman and her mystifications, as a plausible cover for some far deeper, but less easily stated cause of uneasiness. ‘She must have fallen in love,” thought Philip. ‘Can it be with that quiet Italian ?—and is she jealous of that other young woman, Evelyn, and their communings together in his language? <A good thing if sze would take up with the man!” And then Philip, giving no hint of his doubts, administered to his sister a sound lecture, in- tended as a tonic, and which might be good in any case. With his father he knew he was on very different ground. The Rev. Mr. Connell had always been a strict disciplinarian, who had expected obedience and had generally got it Me remembered and realised the altered condition of his grown-up children far more than they did themselves. Probably his old authority held the stronger, through his reticence in commanding now. He would be sure to express his displeasure at what they had now done, but he would beall the more ready to hold to them a helping hand. Philip found his father in his study—‘‘the library,” as Mrs. Connell always called it. It was a very comfortable room, in regard to furniture. For one thing, the element of choice and selec- tion had entered here more largely than in any of the other apart- ments. For, to own the truth, in bygone, struggling days, much second-hand furniture, from Halls and Granges round, had found its way to the minister’s house from many a rural sale. But when the stress of life’s battle was over, and the minister’s wife went to no more sales for what she wanted, but only for what she wished, it was odd what a good background these homely appurtenances made for bits of old oak, quaint china and even stained glass. If anything with an aristocratic aroma about it came in Mrs, Connell’s way, there was no question as to its destination—straightway she carried it off to her husband’s library. And so, the library grew ECoOnnicloooks (C©)