The Argosy — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

I? Winifred Power. recounted how she had pawned her mother’s ring. Mary was touched, but not deeply, being accustomed to Martha’s devotion. ‘“John has been to London again to-day,” said Mary, kneeling down in front of her cousin, all her stateliness banished by secret exultation. ‘‘ You saw him, I know, Martha. You came back in the same train with him.” } ‘But not in the same carriage,” replied Martha, who had indeed avoided John on her return, as though he had been plague-stricken. ‘“Was he alone at the London station—quite alone?” questioned Mary, with kindling eyes. ‘You say ‘yes,’ Patty, but you mumble the words in so odd a way that I vow I hardly believe you.” Martha cowered over the fire in silence. Did Mary know any- thing? And if so, how much? ‘You are late,” said John to her, presently, when he joined them in the room; and his eyes rested coldly on the meek little figure, almost as if he disapproved of her being still in her cloak and bonnet. ‘‘T thought you meant to return by the two o’clock train ?” ‘“I—I was detained. It’s—it’s nearly dinner-time,” stammered Martha, and hurried away, fearful of further questioning. “One would almost think you had an interest in Martha’s return- ang early,” remarked Mary, looking straight into her brother’s face. “You are mistaken. Martha’s movements have but a limited interest for me. / have never made her a confidante, nor employed her on clandestine errands,” retorted John. “Which means that I have,” said Mary, tranquilly. ‘ Union is » strength, John. Why should you and I not make mutual confidences, with a view to mutual advantage ?” ‘“You must demonstrate to me first the nature of the confidences which I could have to make,” replied her brother, his marble face amore inscrutable than ever. She kept her eyes fixed on him for a space, then saying, ‘It will be your own fault if I am alienated,” relapsed into silence. It was a few weeks later that Martha and John found themselves alone at breakfast. The circumstance was not an unusual one, for Mr. Hatherley of course was never present, and Mary just now had reached that stage of a sentimental grievance which results in in- capacity for all the minor tasks of life. The post-bag had arrived, and John, after sorting the letters, was engaged in reading his own. He had handed the Z?mes to his cousin, not for her own perusal, but to cut and smoothe for his, and if he thought of her at all, he probably supposed her to be taking the opportunity to glance at it. But Martha’s mind, not intellectually inclined at the best of times, had no room in it at present for news of the Spanish marriages or any subjects of a kindred nature. Her eyes were fixed on John. Ever since the day of her exciting discovery, he had possessed a kind of fascination for her. Lately also, COPMICLDIOO KS, EO