The Argosy — page 337: what you’re looking at

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

316 Her One Chance: and His. ‘“No, my dear, you have not offended me: I was only surprised,” spoke Katherine Maverick. ‘‘ Believe me, Dora—and I hope you will repeat this to your mother—that neither by word nor by look did Mr. Sarmiento ever hint at such a thing. Such an idea would not have crossed his brain for a moment, and I am sure it never crossed mine. ‘lhe whole world might have heard every word he said to me. He used to converse on general topics—and about my dead father— and sometimes he would speak of his little girl—Emma.” “Well, it was a notion mamma took up, But, Katherine—could you not see that he hiked you?” ‘The word, ‘like,’ has various bearings, Dot, my dear. Mr. Sar- miento liked me as an acquaintance; I feel sure of that: and I saw that he did, rather, seek to converse with me. Once or twice a very ambitious idea did creep in, in regard to the why and the wherefore : but not the outrageously ambitious idea that you hint at, child.” ‘‘ And what is your ambitious idea, Katherine ?” Katherine blushed. ‘I know I must be very foolish, Dot ; but I fancied it just possible that he might be thinking I should make a suitable governess to his child.—And what a change it would have been for me from that school! ‘That is the only notion that ever entered my mind upon the subject, Dora, upon my honour.” ‘Ves, that would have been nice for you,” sighed Dot. ‘It is all at an end now.” , ‘Quite at an end: and I was silly. No harm is done, my dear.” Katherine Maverick spoke the truth. Mr. Sarmiento seemed as far above her, in regard to any closer connection, as the sky; and she had never glanced at anything so preposterous. A grave, sensible, good man, rich and grand and great, and good-looking withal; and shea poor music-mistress ! She hated the prospect of returning to the school, and to its drud- gery; from which there was never any intermission from Monday morn- ing till Saturday night, no elevating companionship, no interchange of higher thoughts. If she could but escape it! her heart felt faint at times at the very hopelessness of the wish. A few evenings after the departure of Mr. Sarmiento, when the stars were beginning to peep out in the heavens through the deepening twilight, Reginald betook himself to the terrace with his cigar, and sat down there out of humour. The house was very silent. Dora was spending the day with a young friend, and Mrs. Lanster retired to her room when dinner was over, complaining of indisposition. Miss Maverick disappeared also—and that was the sore point with Reginald. “She might have been civil enough to stay with a fellow,” he grumbled, tilting himself back in the light chair. ‘ Did she fear | should eat her >—There’s the moon now!” What harm the unoffending moon could do him, rising above the trees in its beauty, he best knew. But his meditations were none of the COPMICMOOKS Conn