The Argosy — page 45: what you’re looking at

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

32 A Girl’s Folly. ‘Good-bye for aye. God be with you!” ‘‘What a solemn mood he is in, the stupid fellow!” commented she. ‘‘But I am glad he took the note! I shall be safe now.” Miss Alison Reece was aclever young lady. ‘The direct and near way to Mr. Watkyn’s home would lead him past the willow walk. | She had devised this impromptu note to her dressmaker in the after- noon to prevent his taking that usual route. Had he seen young Vavasour cooling his heels within the precincts of the willow walk he would inevitably suspect he was waiting to keep a lover’s tryst. Alison leaned over the gate and watched him as he walked away, watched him take the lane that led to the route she had wished, and disappear. She stood there until the gold in the clouds had changed to crimson, the crimson to purple, that spread itself like a royal mantle over the western hills. White mists began to settle on the brooks that but a moment ago had reflected the gorgeous rays of the setting sun. Somehow it seemed to make her shiver, and she crept up to her own room with a strange sense of loss at her heart. Mrs. Reece had gone out after tea to sit with a sick neighbour, and Alison devoutly hoped she would not be coming home yet, or there might be a difficulty in getting away to keep her appointment. It was nearly time to be starting; at least, she might as well go at once, and then she should be safe from her mother. Putting on her hat, she ran downstairs, and opened the kitchen door. ‘Patty, if mamma comes in and asks for me, tell her I am only strolling about a bit this lovely evening. I shall be in directly.” But the loveliness of the evening had gone. Somewhat to Alison’s surprise, the white mist had increased so greatly as to obscure every- thing but itself. ‘‘ How quickly it has come on!” she exclaimed. Mr. Vavasour was waiting for her, and they paced for a few minutes the willow walk together. But for a very few : the young man said he was pressed for time: he had “ heaps” of packing to do, not having touched it yet, and he was going away in the morning. ‘Going away!” exclaimed Alison. ‘¢ Ves—and be shot to it!” said he. ‘‘I got a letter this morning recalling me home. My mother’s ill, is ordered to Nice, and she wants me to accompany her. Fate is cruel to us, dear Miss Reece.” ‘¢ But—you will be coming back here!” cried the startled Alison. ‘‘]’m sure I don’t know whether I shall be coming back here ever —or whether I may find myself banished to the remotest regions of Siberia,” drawled the dandy, twirling one end of his moustache. “‘ Nothing seems certain in this sublunary world, except uncertain changes. Old Tarbey was quite knocked down with the news. I wrote to ask you to be good enough to meet me here, knowing I should not have a minute all day to get down to your place—to tell you of it, and to say good-bye.” There was a matter-of-course carelessness in his voice and manner that grated terrib!y on Alison ; her pride rose to the surface. COMMEMOOKS.COnn