The Argosy — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

38 : Godmother Dorothy. had I not been absorbed in watching the changes of expression that. drifted across that handsome, inscrutable face at the window. I caught her eyes fixed on me, too, once. It was when May had left the piano and returned to her ’cello. I liked to watch her as she played. With her long white arms and fingers, her intent luminous eyes, and her loose rippling hair, May always reminded me of some angel making music I had seen in a church window ; and I sat admiring till I seemed to feel Mrs. Pierpoint’s glance rest on me, and turned to intercept a curious look. A queer, wistful, yearning, heart-sick look that was gone in a flash, and left her smiling content on us. One more and one more—we had got amongst the duets now—and then I said I must go. “Only this before we part,” begged May, holding up one of | Reissiger’s trios. ‘Come, Auntie!” “Can you two ever get on for five minutes without my assist- ance?” she demanded, rather impatiently, rising and joining us how- ever. Well, it all came to an end at last, and I left, but had not courage to bring away the violin, though no hint of further practice was given. I kept away for three days, and on the fourth, as I was leaving the orderly-room, I came full upon Colonel Wriothesley. He is in the Engineers, and had come down to inspect the fort. It took up the rest of the morning and some time after luncheon. I listened with nervous interest to the Colonel’s gentle little stream of small-talk, hoping against hope that some allusion to his friends here might escape him—in vain. We discussed Rocksedge, its visitors, its merits as a seaside resort and as a military station, and still no mention of his cousins came. At last, heart-sick and desperate, I bluntly asked— “You were coming down here one day last month, were you not, Colonel ? ” } | “Who? I? Never rightly knew where the place was till last week, I am ashamed to say,” was the answer that crushed my last hopes. Yet to make certainty more sure I persisted. ‘Do you know any lady down here of the name of Pierpoint? Darsie Pierpoint ? ” ‘‘Pierpoint? No. I’ve heard the name somewhere. Pierpoint—? There was a Pierpoint—a young fellow—drowned on his way to India, lremember. Nice fellow, engaged to a Miss Lawler: one of the Devonshire Lawlers. Is there anyone here of that name ?” All I could do now was to keep him away from the subject, and the chance of meeting them. Unfortunately there remained two hours to dispose of before his train left. We strolled down to the sea, took a turn on the Esplanade, and up the cliff by the old town. About half a mile from Rocksedge lies a fine old ruined church, and the Colonel, to my unexpected relief, professed himself a bit of an archzologist, and expressed a wish to explore it. As it lay on the Eomicbooks.co m