The Argosy — page 356: what you’re looking at

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

Mrs. Raven’s Temptation. 333 thing to face facts. He looked steadily at Evelyn. ‘I suppose I need not tell you, Miss Agate, that nobody may leave the Court on any pretence, and that any sign of secret movement is likely to attract suspicion.” “Qh, I can quite understand that,” answered Evelyn, with a forced return to her ordinary glib manner. ‘And really it is very unfortu- nate for me, for I had been speaking to Mr. Frank about paying a short visit to my friends in London.” There was something in Evelyn’s face which belied the confidence of her tone and words. It had hard and haggard lines in it now. She walked before him down the corridor. ‘The doctors had come and were with Frank. Evelyn chose to go into the little room where they had taken lunch, and sat down in silence. Mr. Connell stood by the window, gazing out at the sweet, still scene, with a pale afternoon sunlight on the tops of the bare trees. The doctors left Frank for James Sloam: they judged him to be in more urgent need of aid. He lay in Budd’s private room, on an old-fashioned horse-hair sofa. One or two of the younger servants and Charity Hale were with him. Mr. Connell and Evelyn followed the doctors in. Like Frank, he was unconscious, but Mr. Connell could see the difference between the condition of the sick boy and that of his young master. This one was clearly struck to death. “Vou can’t save him,” said Charity, in a low, sad voice. Then turning to Evelyn, she added, ‘‘ Dying beds are no place for fine ladies like you.” “Hush!” commanded Mr. Connell, imperatively. ‘Do the boy’s friends live near ?” “He has not got any friends,” said Charity, grimly. ‘‘ He has only a father, and I’ve sent for him. And here he comes,” she added, as Eldred Sloam entered. ‘So our Jem is taken bad, is he?” cried the man. ‘He’s at death’s door,” said Charity, quietly; ‘‘the doctors won’t be able to do anything. Mr. Frank and he have both taken some- thing wrong, and Jem does not seem able to shake it off, as we hope the master is doing. It’s at these times one’s ways of living tell,” she added, in stern and bitter rebuke of the negligent father, ‘‘and poor jem lived mean enough till he came to the Court.” ‘Let the father come near,” said Dr. Wragge. The suffering boy’s moans had almost ceased; the pinched, pained look was fading from his face, but something different from its accus- tomed homeliness was fast settling there. Eldred Sloam hesitated— he almost recoiled. Was this his boy Jem, his starved, neglected child, with the patient face? He had seen one like it before. ‘“‘He’s turnin’ like his mother, poor Jane,” Eldred whispered. “He always was like her,” said Charity, sternly ; ‘and those that are like in life, are always liker still in death.” GomiGivooksnco mn