The Argosy — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

40 My Saturdays. peculiarities was to dislike varieties in dress; having a white cashmere which was suitable for an afternoon party, she saw no occasion for making any change, simply because she had worn it before. Only as the season varied, so did her flowers; and thus her dress carried out that union of repose and variety, which was one of her personal charms. ‘To-day she had ventured on a pro- fusion of roses, in harmony with the sumptuous weather; white, pink, crimson, and yellow—they decked her hat, and twined round her neck, and rested on her bosom; one gorgeous red rose even looped up a fold of her dress. I had never seen her look prettier or livelier, and yet I was not quite satisfied. ‘There seemed something uneasy in the rich flush on her usually delicate cheek, and the brilliancy of her sort eyes, and she watched her husband even more anxiously than usual. He seemed in high spirits, and had brought his racquet, talked and laughed with wonderful animation, and professed himself indifferent to the heat, and longing for a game. It was not very long before he was taking part in one, and Rhoda and I stood and watched the play for a little, until he seemed thoroughly absorbed in it. Nevertheless, I could not divest myself of an uneasy feeling that something was wrong with him, and that Rhoda felt it. We walked round the garden together, and I told her that Archie had brought her good news, but that he would not tell it to anyone but herself. ‘So I have arranged for you to have your talk in the drawing- room, where you will be cool and undisturbed—for you look flushed already, dear.” ‘“Good news! Oh Vera, is it? I am so glad, so thankful; I felt that something was going to happen to-day. Good news! is it really? Oh, how long it is since we have had any !” She hurried into the drawing-room; but controlled herself, and met Archie with nearly her usual composure. I closed half the window-door after me as I came in, and passed through into the conservatory. Here I worked myself all the year round, and made pets of my flowers and ferns. The latter had an abode of their own, at the further end, a little shady nook, built out from it, with rock-work, and a miniature arch, and a drip of water in its tiny caves. At the same end was a door into the garden, through which I meant to rejoin my guests, without going back into the drawing-room ; but first I stepped into the fernery, to remove a shade from my beloved Killarney fern. When the drawing-room should be vacated, I meant to bring up Lady Jacobs to admire its progress. Just as I was arranging this, I heard a quick but stealthy step on the gravel outside, and in a moment Professor Lingard entered the conservatory, treading quietly in his tennis-shoes. At once he heard the sound of his wife and Archibald’s voices inside, and his face changed from eager watchfulness to something demoniac. ‘Three or four cat-like strides brought him to the door into the drawing-room ECOPMICLMDOO KS. EO)