The Argosy — page 252: what you’re looking at

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

Mrs. Carr’s Companion. 233 opened, and so were unaccustomed to such sights, blushed an even rosier red. “And so you have not changed your mind,” said Thorold, as he released her. ‘‘T think you might have asked that question first, John!” Her smile, a chastened one, for she could not but remember that this grey morning was already dimmed by the shadow of his going away—ought to have been sufficient answer. But as if loth to believe in his good fortune, he went on seriously: ‘‘ You are sure you have no doubts? Olive! if you were ever to treat me as your sister treated Kane—if I were even to see a shadow of regret in your eyes—it would break my heart! Rather put me to pain now ; I can bear it.” She did not falter beneath his earnest gaze, but raised her eyes to his with such a world of mute reproach in them that he grew ashamed of his mistrust. ‘Rose is Rose, and I am Olive,” she said quietly, and then disengag- ing her hands from his clasp, she walked back into the drawing-room. ‘“‘ Forgive me, dearest ; I should have known you better,” he said humbly. Then she made room for him on the ottoman beside her, and for a while they forgot the flight of time, the waiting breakfast— all but themselves. Yet there was one thing Olive could not forget—their impending separation. How long it might be before she would again feel that strong arm round her! the arm which had so often been her pro- tection in childish troubles long ago; how long. before those kind, faithful eyes would again look down upon her tenderly. The unfeel- ing marble clock upon the mantel-shelf ticked on inexorably; the moments were fleeting so fast, so fast! But the tender sadness on her face found no reflexion in her lover’s, although it was soberly enough that Thorold presently said : ‘Dear Olive! I have much to thank Heaven for, this day. The post this morning brings me news that the judges have selected my designs for the new Government buildings. I need not now return to Canada at all. Olive!” he spoke playfully though half sadly, ‘you may have cause to be proud of your husband yet !” The flush of mingled shame and triumph—the triumph for him, the shame all for herself—had not faded from her expressive face when the door opened and the Archdeacon came in, rubbing his hands. He seemed not altogether surprised at the presence of the early visitor. Assyriology and cuneiform records had not perhaps quite banished the remembrance of some early passages which—which I suppose many veteran archdeacons count among the records of their lives. Olive had always been his favourite niece, and his kiss for her was especially kind that morning as he said playfully : _ “Olive, the kettle has been boiling over, your mother and I are _ famished, and Viola is hunting for you all over the house!” VOL, XXXVI. Q ECORnNICOOOKS. EO mn