The Argosy — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

70 Lhe Lve of St. Pariridge.: On the morning of the 4th, a telegram was placed before Arthur Seymour while he sat at breakfast. Evidently some event of import- ance had occurred, for his usually pale face grew crimson as he read it, but he thrust it hastily into his pocket without uttering a word. Only towards the end of breakfast he said to his hostess : “T am afraid, Mrs. ‘Taunton, you will be saddled with me till the evening. Some news I have just received necessitates an entire change in my plans.” “My dear Arthur, you know this house is yours to go and come as you like. You have had no bad news, I hope?” ‘““My uncle, Sir Wilfrid Grant, is dead,” returned Arthur, sadly. “T must go North without delay.” “Your mother’s brother ?” | ‘Yes. My mother was with him when he died. She telegraphs to me to come to her at once; but there is no quick train from here till the evening. I know that, from past experience.” This announcement of Arthur’s cast an inevitable shade over the whole party, but more especially on Algy Merrick, who had expected Arthur to leave early, when he intended to avoid the shooters under the pretext of being tired, and devote the morning to winning his cause with the widow. Now breakfast was no sooner over, and the party separated about in different quarters, than Mrs. Bulmer sought Arthur Seymour out in the library, where he was sitting alone writing letters in connection with the recent event. They had scarcely spoken for days, but Julia had known Arthur too long not to feel that it was imperative she should go and condole with him in his sorrow; more especially as Sir Wilfrid Grant’s place adjoined Bulmer Court, and she was really sorry about the old man’s death. He looked up when she entered, and started as though he had seen a ghost. “ Julia—Mrs. Bulmer !” ‘“T have come to tell you, Arthur, how much I condole with you in your grief,” she said, very simply; calling him by his Christian name as she had done from childhood. ‘“ Ay, it is true I need condolence, though, perhaps, scarcely from you.” And having fixed his eyes once more on his papers, he did not attempt to raise them. ‘“Not from me? What have I done to displease you? Oh, Arthur, why are you so changed, so unkind to me? But it does not matter. I only came to tell you I was sorry about poor Sir Wilfrid ; since you do not wish to hear it, I will not intrude.” And she turned to leave the room. Another moment and he was by her side. ‘Julia, tell me the truth. Do you not love Algy Merrick ?” ‘Tt can matter but little to you whom I love,” she answered. “Not matter! Have I not loved you for years? When you COMMICLOOOMKS.{SOU