The Argosy — page 135: what you’re looking at

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

120 The Perplexities of Captain Fieramosca. Her brother laid his hand caressingly on her shoulder. ‘ But do you thoroughly wish it, little one? Speak frankly to me before it is too late.” Her eyes filled at the kind touch, the affectionate words. But in her present mood martyrdom was a relief, and she took a sort of savage pleasure in deliberately increasing her own torture. ‘Turning her head away she repeated, ‘I tell you I am going to marry him. | Why cannot you be satisfied with that ?” ‘One would think I was forcing the child, to hear you, and look at you, Enrico,” said his mother, resentfully. Then, by way of dis- tracting his attention from his sister, and rivetting Clelia’s determina- tion, she added: ‘‘ Your Fieramosca is going to marry a rich Englishwoman who, by-the-bye, lives over there ”—pointing to the house with the acacias. “The beggar! To think of his never telling me!” exclaimed Enrico, with an incredulous laugh. ‘‘Who is she? How is she called ? ” “ Valfora? Valvona? Do you suppose I can pronounce it?” replied Signora Maria. ‘‘Can you, Teresa?” Teresa was equally incapable. But said, ‘‘ Enrico ought to know. For, according to Don Giacomo, it must be an old affair, as the lady was sister-in-law to Fieramosca’s colonel.” ‘‘What !” shouted Enrico, and bounced to his feet with an energy that shook the room. “The saints have mercy on us! Are you gone out of your mind P” exclaimed his mother. ‘“ What was it you said, Teresa? Say it again. Tell me, every- thing. Quick!” continued the young man, still unaccountably agitated. | Teresa did his bidding as well as her scattered wits would allow her; then continued inquisitively, ‘‘ But what difference can it make to you?” “Difference?” echoed Enrico. ‘None at all. I am very glad, of course I am. Only surprised, you know, szzJrised.” And he began striding up and down the narrow room in a state which if it indeed expressed mere surprise, was certainly a manifestation of primordial energy. Clelia could stand it no longer. All these questions, this excite- ment fell upon the gaping wounds of her grief like drops of vitriol. Unnoticed, or at least unchallenged by her brother, she rose and crept away, yearning for the rare luxuries of solitude and silence. As soon as she was gone, Teresa, with that vague delight in adding fuel to a flame but vaguely understood, so dear to narrow minds, observed, ‘I think Fieramosca cannot be a very well-principled young man P” “Why not?” asked Enrico, tugging at his moustache, and staring absently into space. EMMI KS, (EC)