The Argosy — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

8 Winifred Power. little earlier! Now, surely, it was too late for her to draw back. Intriguing though she was, she shrank from the meanness of such a course. Had she been convinced of Sir John’s impending ruin— convinced beyond the possibility of doubt—she would have thrown him over ruthlessly. But ignorance made her doubtful; and doubt brought into play all those dramatic instincts in her which simulated noble qualities. If she clung to Sir John now, Mark would admire her ; and, in the event of a catastrophe, he would do something for her. ‘The desire to be approved of by Mark had always been very strong in her; and her roused vanity, reckless as the impulse of a gambler, suggested to her, in this moment of uncertainty, to sacrifice everything to that one chance. She raised her eyes, and met her companion’s quiet, observant glance. “This news can make no difference to me,” she said, simply. “Tf Sir John is to be ruined, my place is at his side.” Mark made a gesture of surprise. He was far from being duped ; and yet, man-like, he was touched. Is it the confession of weakness implied in womanly wiles, which renders these partially successful even with the men whom they do not deceive? Whatever the psychological explanation, it is a fact that Mark for the first time was conscious of a faint liking for his future step-mother. ‘There was not much esteem in the feeling, but it was dashed by no resentment, rather by a quaint compassion. ‘‘Hlave you ever seriously reflected what it is to marry a man old enough to be your father ?” he asked her, not unkindly. “TI never reflect. Reflection is the luxury of the happy, Mr. Hatherley.” And then Gertrude covered her face with her hands, and burst into tears. They were tears compounded of many feelings—of shock, of rage, of a little shame, of a vast deal of mere mental fatigue; but they were the most appropriately-managed outburst which ever put an end to an inconvenient discussion, and rendered an estimable young man speechless. Before Gertrude had overcome the first paroxysm of her sobs, and Mark the pained surprise of hearing them, the door opened, and, amid a buzz of voices, appeared Mrs. Burton’s inquisitive golden head, closely accompanied by the rubicund visage of her husband, and the pale countenance of Sir John! “My love!” cried the vicar’s wife, and struck an attitude of indignant consternation, accompanied by a withering glance at Mark. But Gertrude sprang to her feet, and rushed almost into Sir John’s arms. ‘‘VYour son has been so kind,” she exclaimed, a little hysterically. ‘And I do—oh! I do think it was noble of you to send him to me.” Sir John, all the more struck with the nobility of his action that he had been totally unaware of it, bowed devotionally over his betrothed’s white hand; Mrs. Burton smiled seraphically ; Mr. CONNIE OOO KS (E)