The Argosy — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

Winifred Power. | 7 nevertheless, at his companion a swift sidelong glance; which she did not see. Her thoughts were absorbed in considering how she could make John a request that, if granted, would fill Mary with joy, and earn for Martha that which she most coveted, the expression of Mary’s gratitude. She sat gazing into the fire, her breath coming quickly as the words of her petition alternately trooped to her lips; then retreated, unuttered. “Tt is late,” said John, at last; rousing himself from a gloomy reverie, and eyeing her discontentedly. Martha rose; lighted his candle, and handed it to him; paused, and then, with a valiant rush, stammered out the words: ‘John, poor Ralph is really starving.” ‘‘ Let him starve, the lazy, worthless scoundrel!” exclaimed John, with a sudden flash of fire in his eyes, before which she shrank back as scared as by the blaze of a line of guns. Bowing her head meekly, she murmured, “‘ Good-night,” and crept upstairs, mortified, crestfallen, and heavy-hearted. } John retired to his library. This was a very handsome room where, installed in a high-backed chair in front of a pretentious table, he was accustomed to spend many hours, presumably in study. The people who found him there were always impressed in spite of them- selves. And when the grave young man, with a wave of his hand towards a quaint-looking volume in vellum, would remark that it was an Aldine, his hearer, profoundly ignorant of what an Aldine might be, looked at him with an expression curiously compounded of con- tempt and awe. With such a recondite work open before him, John was usually discovered ; and such a work lay open upon his table now. Shutting it up with a brusqueness which certes no genuine lover of old books had ever used before him, he thrust it away, and sitting down upon his medieval chair, abandoned himself to a reverie. Martha meanwhile had gone to Marys room, and found her sitting, still undressed, before the fire. ‘Did you notice?” Mary cried exultingly, her eyes bright with some secret triumph. “Notice? What?” asked Martha. ‘‘ Fis agitation when I mentioned Linden-Grove Road ?” Martha’s hands fell to her side, and she stood mute with surprise. “You good old owl!” laughed Mary. ‘“ I believe you never saw it.” She was quite right. Martha had not only not seen, but was still a hundred miles from comprehension. ‘“What does it all mean?” she asked. ‘“ Never you mind, Patty. You are not clever at keeping secrets: They always oppress you. Suffice it to say that in future I shall know how to manage my immaculate brother.” Too humble-minded to be inquisitive, Martha waited further information. But Mary continued to talk in riddles. ECOMICOOOKS (CO)