The Argosy — page 362: what you’re looking at

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

The White Witch. 339 zigzag fashion to the window, and leant against it as if he were going to faint! I thought he must be ill " “Ts he ill?” “No. He said it was the heat. The heat! in September! And in that big, draughty dining-room of theirs !” “Was anything said that vexed him ?” asked Mary. ‘‘ There must have been some reason for his looking so.” “ Nothing at all was said of that sort,” dissented Mr. Mayne, rub- bing up his memory. ‘“‘ We had been talking of—of church music ; yes, that was it: the singing of our choir. That couldn’t make him feel faint—out of church, at any rate. And then Sir William spoke of his son’s death, mentioning some particulars that none of us had heard before: but there was nothing in all that to affect Godfrey. He—why, Laura! you are looking faint yourself, now!” “*T am only a little tired,” murmured Mrs. Mayne. ‘** The fact is, mamma ought not to have sat up so long this even- ing,” said Mary, calmly, as she rose: “a storm, or only the threatening of a storm, fatigues her. Mamma, I think you should go to bed. I shall ring for Lydia.” Well, I never had so many frights and disappointments and sur- prises in one evening before,” cried Mr. Mayne. ‘“ First your mother is ill; then Godfrey tries to faint; and I declare you yourself look whiter than either of them. Is there something the matter with all of you—or what is it?” he asked, with a sudden change of tone. ‘There is something the matter with me, I know,” laughed Mary, who was quite equal to coping with her unsuspicious step-father. “I think if I don’t find myself in bed very shortly, I shall drop off to sleep as I stand, and sleep for a hundred years, like the princess in the fairy-tale.” “T don’t feel inclined for bed yet,” said Mr. Mayne; ‘I’m not sleepy. Ill go downstairs and have it out with-Godfrey about that fainting matter—that is, if he is about yet. Good-night, Mary.” “No, mamma, I will not have you talk to-night,” said Mary, as her mother was beginning with an eager whisper the moment the door closed. ‘‘ There is nothing to alarm you; I am sure of that. You must get a good night, and be fresh and well in the morning.” * But, Mary,” remonstrated the unhappy lady, striving to still her trembling hands, ‘‘you heard what was said about Godfrey and his agitation: his suspicions must have been further directed to us; to youand tome. Something must be done—to allay them.” In low, eager tones the mother talked until the maid entered. Then, with a warm, comforting kiss, and a last soft promise that all should be right, Mary took up a small lighted lamp, and withdrew. The day’s work and the day’s strain had sadly tired her, and she was full of secret anxiety beyond what her mother knew of, Leaving the lamp on a slab near her own door, she walked on softly down the wide, handsome corridor, intending to open the end EONNIE MOO KS (E(0) m