The Argosy — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

20 Mrs. Raven’s Temptation. And straightway she went on in Italian, her manner sweet, her eyes fixed on him, ‘What shall I say? I have no beautiful thoughts to utter! What can I[ wish you, when I do not know what you wish for yourself? Only believe that I always wish you well.” Marco answered in the same language, his impassioned tone hardly suppressed, ‘‘When I hear your voice, it is enough. Will you think of me while Iam away? Will it matter to jou whether or not I ever return ?” “Will it not ?” she said, softly. ““Confound it!” thought Philip. ‘‘I wish I had made myself a more fluent Latin scholar, and then I should surely be able to make out a word here and there! It is my private impression that they are saying something uncommonly sweet.” Louisa rose, gently laid her work aside, and retired. Marco did not even seem to notice her going. ‘* All your friends here hope to see you again,” said Evelyn, “Do you ?” he asked, passionately. “T do,” she said, dropping her eyelids. Mrs. Connell thought the girl was showing more womanly feeling than she had believed she possessed, for she seemed to be trembling. This sudden and desperate avowal of the passion she had consciously awakened, had actually startled even Evelyn Agate. In the moment Marco first set eyes on her, he had awakened to the fact, that his fancy for Louisa Connell had been nothing but a pleasant friendship. “Tf I live, you shall see me again,” he murmured in answer. *‘Not here. Somewhere else—where we can speak together face to face, unheard, unwatched. I know where to find you. Every fact I have heard about you, is garnered in my heart. For a while, think of ma If I never come, forget me. Say to yourself, ‘one more unhappy one 1s gone to his rest.’ ” ‘‘T shall wait for you,” said Evelyn, calmly. ‘* Believe that.” They were standing up now, side by side, for he had risen to leave. He held out his hand and took hers. No other pledge was possible between the two then and there ; and perhaps no tenderer caress would have been in harmony with Marco’s high-strung mood. You would not have guessed them to be a pair of parting lovers; they did not look like it. Mrs. Connell thought only that the lad’s poetic imagination and hungry heart had transformed the simple girl who spoke his mother-tongue, into an inspiring genius—a personifica- tion of his own restless patriotism. They followed him through the hall to the very door. He did not ask after Percy (who was out), or Alice Cleare, or the little girls ; no, nor after Mr. Connell. Did he remember that he had not said good-bye to Louisa? She, standing in her own room, with clasped hands and straining eyes, wondered if she could run down and snatch a hasty farewell, whether ECOPMICLMIOO KS, EO