The Argosy — page 237: what you’re looking at

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220 My Saturdays. saw her a good many times that summer. It turned out that she had been at school with Charlotte Stamwood, and that she was a connec- tion of Mrs. Villiers, and had seen a good deal of Imogen at her house. So I persuaded Mrs. Neville to make an expedition, and bring her over to one of my Saturday afternoon teas, to renew her old acquaintances. Charlotte came specially to meet her, and the result was that when she had finished her visit at Windsor, she came for a time to Tamston Rectory. Imogen was up and down, often spending a couple of days with me (of which Archie got more benefit than I did), and when she was at liberty, Miss Graham came in to see her, or they took walks together. In one way or another, I managed to see a great deal of her, but knew her very little better. We had plenty of in- teresting talk, for she was intelligent and well-informed; but she never responded to that half-speculative, half-personal talk about feelings and qualities and characteristics, through which women so easily drift into self-revelation. She might have warmed apropos of spiritualism, but I was afraid of the subject, and always avoided it, until that rainy Saturday, when Captain Perth was the object of a mahogany vengeance.* I was not at all pleased with the part she had taken in the affair; but I had asked her in the morning to stay to dine and spend the evening, and though I had been annoyed and frightened, and generally upset, I could not send her away. The days were growing shorter, and we had dinner late, to suit Archie, so that there was a twilight half-hour before that event. The lovers had disappeared, and when I came into the drawing-room I found Lena Graham in sole possession of it. She was walking up and down with her hands behind her, her great black eyes looking larger and blacker than ever in the dusk. She turned to me quickly as I came In. ‘‘T am so glad you have come,” she said, eagerly. “I want you to tell me all about them.” * About whom ?” ‘¢ Captain Perth, of course, and his wife. I know he was cruel to her. Did he beat her?” ‘No; certainly not.” ‘Did he starve her? did he neglect her? did he leave her to shiver with cold, and pine, and die?” she went on, absolutely glaring into my face. “Not at all,” I answered. ‘‘ What ideas have you taken up about these people? ‘They were my neighbours, and Captain Perth was my guest to-day. I don’t want to gossip about his affairs, and | am very sorry that anything unpleasant has happened to him in my house.” ‘‘T know there was something wrong,” she persisted, ‘f though you don’t want to tell me. How did Mrs. Perth die?” * See ‘' Poor Mrs. Perth,’”’ ARGosy, December, 1882. GomichbooksGom