The Argosy — page 280: what you’re looking at

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

Mrs. Raven’s Temptation. 259 Evelyn Agate went softly to and fro. With her own hands she brought up tea for them. And when, near midnight, they came down to the dining-room to snatch a little supper, they found the men- servants banished from the scene, and Evelyn herself in actual attend- ance on the wants of Mrs. Raven. Frank could not but assist her: Mrs. Raven was their mutual care; and when she bade them a sad good-night, she kissed them both, first one and then the other, and grasped a hand of each in each of hers. Evelyn had certainly given a very perfect representation of sympathy. frank wondered why he did not like her. Perhaps he might have understood it if he had known that directly she was behind the scenes —z.é, within her own bed-room—she had executed a little private waltz, and then sat down before the glass, and smiled at her own reflection for half an hour. CHAPTER “XX NVI TSE, NURSE HANNAH’S TRUNK. ALICE CLEARE’S answer to Frank came at once from Coltburn. She could not help indulging in a little feminine curiosity as to why such a question was asked. The information she could give was meagre enough. She had torn the lining of her dress during her walk to Gerstowe, on the day of her brother’s death, and had gone into a little shop there and bought this material, and asked permission to sit down and repair the damage. ‘The remnant of her purchase she still had, in the work-basket where Frank had seen it. It is singular how slow the facts of life are, compared with human fancies and expectations. In looking forward, Frank seemed to foresee that his brother would recover consciousness and tell what he had seen, that the family would take counsel together, and that a definite line of conduct would be pointed out to them by the revelations which events would make, and by which Frank himself was de- termined to take his stand. Unless there was a full explanation of much that puzzled him, an entire assurance on the part of those who knew best that he was really the son of the late Squire and his wife, Frank was determined never to allow himself to stand in the position of Leonard’s heir. For if he were not the child of the house, where and who was the child? ‘The name of Evelyn Agate answered his silent query. ‘The coincidence of their birthdays, her mysterious origin, turned to this direction. Yet, if Evelyn were really a child taken from Ravenscourt, then who was he? An Agate? Yet had he the Raven face. It must be owned that when Frank contemplated a possibility which might take his name and his rank from him, it was always easier to do so if he fancied that at the same time he should find himself Gertrude Agate’s nephew, with home-rights in that quaint COMMICOAOOKS. CO