The Argosy — page 80: what you’re looking at

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

Mrs. Carr’s Companion. 67 He moved away, endeavouring to assume a careless air of uncon- cern as the door opened to admit Olive Egerton. What had come to her? With a silent bow of greeting to Thorold, she deliberately advanced a pace or two towards the table where Viola was sitting, and said, coldly and significantly : ‘“‘JAZzss Romayne, my mother wishes to speak to you in the library.” Viola neither spoke nor moved, although even in her pre-occupied state she was cruelly conscious of this second buffet which fortune had in store for her. “© At once, if you please. Lady Mary is waiting.” Instinctively Viola made an effort, gathered her forces together and with difficulty rose to her feet. Much concerned at her feeble movements, John Thorold hastily interposed. ‘‘Excuse me, but Miss Keith is not equal to any exertion just now. She is faint and ill; perhaps you will explain to Lady Mary?” ‘No, no, I am better now. I will go.” She walked on with a firm step and went towards the door. He went forward to hold it open for her, and as she passed him contrived unobserved to press her hand with an emphatic ‘“‘ Remember” as signifi- cant as that of King Charles on the scaffold. Mechanically Viola found her way to the library, and with a gentle knock at the door entered. ‘There was something impressive and awe-inspiring in the solemn silence of its atmosphere. The Arch- deacon stood on the hearthrug, with his back to the fire, looking as dignified in his silk stockings and buckled shoes as was possible for one of his Small stature. Lady Mary sat stately and majestic in the great leathern chair near him, holding an open letter in her hand. As Viola approached, the Archdeacon silently moved a chair towards her. She thanked him, but didnot take it. Scarcely knowing, indeed, where she was, or what had befallen her, she stood like some pale prisoner at the bar of judgment waiting to be addressed. ‘I sent for you,” began Lady Mary in chilling accents, “ because I have just received a friendly warning that the person called Viola Keith, whom I have received and sheltered, and had come to look upon almost as a child of my own, has no existence. With Viola Romayne I have nothing to do. Ate to-day, therefore, Mrs, Carr will no longer require your services.’ Lady Mary had, perhaps, expected an interruption of tears, pro- testations, reproaches. She was met by a resistless, passionless calm, upon which her words fell harmless. ‘‘ Have you nothing to say for yourself ?—no excuse to make?” she asked, at last breaking the painful silence. Viola slowly raised a pair of stedfast eyes to the face turned upon her so sternly. Lady Mary, have I failed in any of the duties I undertook when I came here? Have I not faithfully fulfilled my contract ?” “I have no cause of complaint. You have carried out your Eonnicloooks (C(O) im