The Argosy — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

36 Godmother Dorothy. distant glimpse of a yellow Japanese parasol had not brought me. It was a still, warm-tinted evening, and the fishing-boats rocked on a glassy sea, the line of the net marking one long curve of ripples in the water. All the population of Rocksedge were congregated on the Esplanade, watching to see the net drawn in. The little brown, bare-legged children scrimmaged about on the wet pebbles below, and Scrap barked excitedly at them from the edge of the sea wall above. Mrs. Pierpoint had chosen a seat apart, and welcomed me with a faint smile. She had come to town to try and get rid of her head- ache, but I might stay, if I did not mind a dull companion. So we sat and talked softly together in the still clear evening, and when she rose to go home I went with her. ‘May tells me she made a foolish mystery of our plans when she saw you this morning. I was very angry with her, silly girl! The fact is, we don’t quite know ourselves where we shall stay in town. It is an odd time to be there, but May has a chance of getting some violin lessons, and we can stay on to get a peep at the autumn ex- hibitions. When I have succeeded in finding rooms I will send you our address, if you care to have it.” “Colonel Wriothesley could help you in your quest. Nobody knows town better than he. I expect him here in a day or two.” I didn’t make that speech, I'll swear. It was some demon, who got possession of me for the moment and spoke with diabolic significance through my voice. I saw—and oh, how I wished I hadn't seen—her start and colour, as no mention of an ancient and respectable relative need cause any woman, conscience-free, to blush. I blurted out some common-place stupidity in haste, to save her the embarrassment of a reply, but the walk homewards was ended in silence, except for a few forced fragments of conversation. When we parted she gave me no invitation to enter, nor did her eyes meet mine as she held out her hand. ‘Shall we see you to- morrow ?” and to my fancy there was a wistful apologetic ring in her words: ‘‘ You promised May to come. She will be disap- pointed, and wonder ——” “ Thank you, I will come.” ‘‘In the afternoon I shall be glad to see you,” and she bowed and let the gate close gently on me, while I—as miserable and conscience smitten as if I had been found out in anything—I turned slowly homewards to compose another letter to. Lady Dorothy. This is what I said: “TJ can only answer your anxieties about me by the truth. The truth about myself, I mean. Perhaps you have already guessed somewhat of it from the letter that this follows. As for Mrs. Pier- point, I am as far from knowing anything about her as I was then. You hinted, half in joke, that she was not what she pretends to be —plainly spoken, that means that she is an adventuress, of whom a Gomicbooks.co m