The Argosy — page 295: what you’re looking at

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

274 My Saturdays. step-mother, seeing Archie safely disposed of, did not think it necessary to pursue her. Poor girl! she was thoroughly miserable. Ever since last Saturday she had been living on remembrance and hope; she and Archie understood each other at last; he loved her —there was no doubt of it now, and she was saved. ‘They had pledged faith in music, as they looked into each other’s eyes; he had sworn to rescue her, and the warm clasp of his strong hand lingered stillon hers. Now, at last, this weary untrue life of scheming and fretting would be over, and something genuine would be hers instead—she scarcely knew what, except that 1t would be with him. But here they were within a few steps of each other—all but together, and yet as far apart as if all the tides of London were as usual roaring between them. Gossip was busy with her name; doubtless Archibald too had heard this story, and it explained his altered bearing. He must think her a flirt—a double flirt. Oh, how could it have arisen? She herself was sure that Lord Anderton was the fountain-head. He was so thoroughly certain that whatever he decided must come to pass that if he were asked questions on the matter, he would rather let it be supposed that all was arranged, than admit the possibility that his pet scheme should fail. He might even have gone farther, and deliberately allowed the report to grow, in order to make her feel bound, and tempt her into committing herself by consenting to such half-denials as her step-mother would be sure to make. ‘That at least he should not do; she had foiled him, and would foil him. But now the help she had trusted to had failed her, and a blank future, filled only with reproaches and repining, stretched again its sandy wastes before her. As she stood by the river, drearily watching the bits of decaying water-weed float down, she suddenly noticed a canoe moored to the bank among the pleasure boats. It was Archie’s, but she did not know this, or notice the painted name: she stepped in, and was soon in the middle of the river, working her way up stream with exertion that relieved her irritated misery, and at every stroke leaving a wider and wider stretch of silent soothing water between her and the troublesome world. Archibald played tennis diligently and desperately all that after- noon. Regardless of other people’s rights, as fast as one game was ended he invited another trio to join him, and began again playing eagerly—almost wildly, with an insistance upon his own opinion on disputed points, and a want of temper, most unlike his usual quiet good manners. Mrs. Lingard was his partner at last, and was really distressed by the evidences of something wrong; and when the game was over, she asked him to take a turn round the garden with her, making it impossible for him to refuse. He walked by her side moodily until they came to a convenient place on the bank, where they sat down. For a time very few words. were spoken, but EOLMICLYOO| KS, (EO)