The Argosy — page 263: what you’re looking at

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

244 On the River. midnight walk to his club. ‘‘ How savage she can look when she pleases! Yet I don’t know but that I admire her all the more—a flare-up shows off those magnificent eyes, and the very fact of jealousy betrays an interest In my movements. Still the widow is decidedly pretty—and I have been down on my luck lately, and sadly need a windfall. And I really believe she is fond of me, dear little soul.” And Sir Reginald Vane’s reflections, not leading him to any satis- factory conclusion, the next afternoon finds him at Waterigy taking a return ticket to Twickenham. Five minutes’ walk from the latter station brings him to a charming little villa, with green lawn sloping down to the river; while from be- neath a weeping-ash, a dainty little figure, emerging from the depths of a chaise longue, comes with hand extended to meet him. In her cool white summer draperies, and with the flickering sun- beams lighting up her great childish blue eyes and waves of pale gold hair, Mrs. Fairfax is as pleasant an object on a blazing July day as any man’s eye could wish tc rest upon. So Reggie Vane thinks, as, with a sigh and murmur of satisfaction, he sinks into a seat by her side, takes off his hat, and helps himself uninvited from the fragrant pile of strawberries in the basket near at hand. Frightfully hot in London, is not it?” asks his hostess, sympa- thetically. ‘Even here, Queenie and I have been able to do nothing but lounge about in the shade and eat strawberries. Where is the child, by-the-bye ?” A tiny counterpart of herself, giving promise of even greater beauty, here comes up, and presents a little hand to Vane; but when he attempts to kiss her, she shakes her yellow curls over her face and struggles away. ‘“Why, Queenie, what have I done?” he asks, half-offended, yet too languid to go in pursuit of the baby coquette. The mother’s silvery laugh rings out merrily. ‘‘ You forgot to take away the rose she gave you when you were last here. Never mind, Queenie, you must forgive him now.” ‘And won’t you bring me another in token of pardon ?” as the rose-bud mouth meets his half-reluctantly. (Queenie hesitates, but is finally conquered by that winning voice and smile, and goes off in quest of the desired gift. ‘* And now, monsieur,” says the little woman, leaning back on her cushions, and surveying her visitor through the large innocent blue eyes, ‘‘how has the world been treating you since we last met? Come, give an account of yourself. Where were you last night?” ‘‘Dined at the St. Elmos’. Stupid affair, and intolerably hot—and no one worth speaking to.” ‘ Miss Elliot was not there?” ‘This in a careless little tone of enquiry. ‘No. I took in one of the girls of the house, who had not two words to say for herself.” Gomicbooks (E(@)