The Argosy — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

Mrs. Raven's Temptation. 19 “Dear! but this is a sudden move!” exclaimed Philip, dropping into a chair. ‘Is it that the smoky atmosphere does not suit your southern constitution or your artistic inspiration? Oh, but you don’t really mean it? Not to-night, at any rate! You are only harrowing our feelings.” ‘Tt is my own feelings that are harrowed,” said the young painter, in his musical tones, with a sudden flashing glance of his dark eyes towards Evelyn. ‘‘ Nay, I can never be better nor happier than I might be at Coltburn. If I waited till my own will took me hence, I might remain here for ever.” ‘‘T hope you have had no bad news,” resumed Philip, seriously. The Italian’s face changed. Its soft, graceful lines seemed to grow strong and hard; and a strange darkness, so palpable that it seemed almost of the body as well as the spirit, settled on his brow. “'The command of necessity and the call of duty cannot be bad news,” he said, sternly. With the last word he looked up, and met Mrs. Connell’s kind eyes, fixed on him in motherly tenderness. The ice that had closed about him seemed to melt instantly. Hus lip even quivered. “And Signor Learli will not say when we are to see:him again,” said she to the others. “I want him to give me a promise for Christmas.” The young Italian shook his head. ‘‘The stray leaf goes before the wind,” he answered. ‘‘ The wind, and not the leaf, decides where it shall drop.” : “But you think you shall be in this country then?” asked Mrs. Connell. Marco did not answer readily. He reflected for a moment, and then said, simply : 66 Yes.” Louisa looked up as he paused. She had commanded her face at last, and for a moment her eyes were free from tears. She longed to say to Marco, what would have seemed only natural civility to say, but for her consciousness of loving him so well—that surely he would not leave England without letting them know it, and, perhaps, seeing them before he went. But the eyes that she fondly thought might have met her own were turned from her, and her glance only enccuntered Evelyn’s. There was something in that glance which saved Louisa’s poor woollen flowers from any more dewdrops! But her eyes burned and throbbed as in sharp contact with a cruel wind. | Then came another moment’s silence. Marco broke it, by saying to Evelyn, in a low voice: “Let me hear you speak to me once. more in the tongue of my own country.” She started up, and then sat down erect. “You hear him,” she said, looking round, as in apology. “ Pardon him—and me—but it is so natural!” (CO) GOnlGaooks