The Argosy — page 284: what you’re looking at

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

Mrs. Raven's Temptation. 263 addition made to their stock, and he did not frequent the Pitch- fork as of old and was more guarded in his conduct altogether. People called him ‘‘ a changed man ”—a kindly judgment from which shrewd Mrs. Sims begged to differ. And so Christmas-tide drew nigh. All the brightness that was in the house came from without, in cheery letters from the Coltburn Connells—though they were not without their troubles, too, for Louisa continued very unwell, and was advised to seek change of air. Gertrude Agate wrote constantly to Evelyn, and somehow, little by little, her letters grew to be regarded as public property. When they came in, Mrs. Raven always asked the news, and Evelyn was nothing loth to tell what there was, and to add tit-bits of her adopted aunt’s wisdom and humour. For these always interested Frank, and drew her and the young man towards each other as nothing else did. Philip’s letters, again, full of wit and sparkle, told Frank what Gertrude’s never alluded to, that the anonymous letters had entirely ceased, and that peace had returned to Miss Agate’s little household, albeit her unhappy brother was at times strangely restless. Frank privately wondered that he received no further sign from the detectives, but nothing came. It was Christmas Eve. There were, indeed, few signs of festivity about the Court—in short, none, except some holly and mistletoe stuck upon the picture frames, and a slight increase in the arrival of letters, due to the appearance of Christmas cards. Evelyn had gone about the house all day in an abstracted and nervous manner. She said that she felt one of her headaches coming on, but she would keep going about as long as she could. Mrs. Raven urged her to go to her room and lie down, but she put off the lady’s solicitude, lightly, though gratefully, and kept her place in the family circle. They prepared to spend the evening, as usual, in the drawing-room. It was a still night, without the least wind, though cold enough for a light fall of snow. Such was Frank’s report of the weather, as he drew aside the curtains and looked out, before taking his seat by his mother near the fire. Leonard’s couch, with his invalid writing table beside it, was drawn up close to the hearth, and Evelyn occupied her usual low chair at his right hand, where she could easily supply his many small, fidgety wants. This couch and chair faced the window, while Mrs. Raven and Frank had their backs toward it. Sometimes, at these evening hours, one of the little group read aloud. It was not very easy to find books suitable for the circum- stances. Leonard had no love for those sunny paths of literature where minds which need rest and refreshment may wander with delight and benefit. So they fell back chiefly on travels. A book of travels lay ready this Christmas Eve; but, in the mean- time, they were all engaged in looking through the illustrated literature of the season. Leonard had wanted to do this, and his slightest CONnnICOOOKS. EO mn