The Argosy — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

Ugly and Stupid. 63 ‘You are—I—I wonder if I shall ever see you again.” ““T don’t know,” she said indifferently. “The world is very small. It is curlous how one does knock up against people.” “One does—Yes—Certainly—Miss Manners, in case I never should see you again, will you overlook the shortness of our ac- quaintance and let me tell you something.” “Certainly,” she said, with a slight accent of surprise. ‘T_T don’t know whether I ought to allude to it, but I must begin by doing so. I know you must have heard something I said of you, something utterly idiotic and senseless, like the fool I was, but “2 ‘‘-Ves,” she interrupted, quietly ; ‘‘we need not go back to that now.” “Tf you knew,” he went on unheeding, ‘‘how bitterly I have regretted that foolish speech, how utterly I retract it, how, however I might, in my ignorant presumption, have chosen to regard you then, you are to me now the one woman in the world, your face the most beautiful, your every attribute the most perfect. It is now the most earnest hope I ever entertained, that you will some day be my wife— but—I love you!” A sudden flame leaping up revealed Gertrude’s face, on which neither confusion, agitation, pleasure, nor displeasure was depicted ; nothing but the most intense and genuine astonishment. The flame dropped again; the room was nearly dark, and in the darkness the © answer sounded clear and composed. “TI am grateful to you, Mr. Hamilton, for the compliment you pay me, and am sorry to pain you, but it cannot be.” She rose as she spoke as if to leave the room, but he detained her by an imploring gesture. “One moment, Miss Manners. Is there no hope for me—have I offended you irrecoverably by my conceited folly ?” There was some amusement perceptible in the soft, distinct tones which answered : “That has nothing to do with it. My vanity was hurt for a moment perhaps, but less hurt than if I had heard such a speech from a person whose opinion I valued.” There was a pause after this, and then he said meekly : “At any rate you forgive me ?” “Quite,” she answered, impatiently. ‘I am not a child, or a fool to bear malice for foolish words that were never intended to reach my ears.” Then she added gently: ‘You have atoned for them sufficiently to satisfy the most unreasonable of women.” ** But you have too poor an opinion of me ever to care for me?” “No, I never said that,” she answered, kindly. ‘I lke you-—I do, indeed—as an acquaintance ; but “t The footman’s entrance at this moment with the lamp put a sum- mary stop to the interview, and Gertrude prudently avoided any possibility of its recurrence by walking out of the room. ECORnNIClOOKS (GO