The Argosy — page 124: what you’re looking at

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

The Mystery of Allan Grale. 10g “Rose,” he said, “‘ you would never quite own to loving me—until to- day.” ‘You might have guessed,” she whispered. “If you had done so, I should have told you then exactly how matters stand—as I shall tell you now,” he went on. ‘‘ As I have no doubt your uncle, Mr. Raynham, feels, all true love must end in marriage.” “Ves,” she faltered. ““And I should have told you that I could not marry you for a long, long time. It did not seem then as if that could have mattered much. We might have been happy enough ; you living safely in your pretty little home, and I coming down to Redbourne to see you and > to paint my pictures. Such a courting time as that could hardly be too long—it would have been like Eden,” he said, with a smile. ‘“‘ And that’s how it might have been,” cried Rose, roused by the idyllic picture. “Yes,” said Mr. Forester. ‘‘ But now it is—as itis. If I were to marry you, at once, Rose, I should ruin my own prospects, and so have nothing to offer you. You used to laugh at my pictures, while I was vain of them, but I should not lke to rely on them for an income all my life.” ‘“But I’m not used to being rich,” said Rose—‘ and some artists do make plenty of money. Even my grandpapa made enough.” “Some artists—but not I,” returned Mr. Forester, ignoring the family reference. ‘‘ No, Rose, my future really depends on the good will of a certain relative, who is not pleased with me already.” The girl looked up eagerly. “Time might pave the way for speaking of you to this relative ; for introducing you to him. Let me see; you were sketching in the forest the first time we met.” “Yes,” said Rose. “Ay. And—and we must wait, Rose ; there’s nothing else for it. You, my dear, might go home again. Your uncle will have been so frightened by your absence that he is sure to be kind to you. You can truly say you went off because of his harshness and afterwards repented of it.” Rose stood up. Her face was still pale, and there was a cold flashing light in her eyes. The girl was not by nature passionate, but recent excitement had strung her to a high pitch of heat, and the heat was a white heat. She spoke low and slowly, in tones which carried chill conviction of her determination to him who heard them. ‘T will not go home,” she said ; ‘‘ things cannot have grown better, but worse, through my leaving it. My uncle reminded me that his roof was my shelter only while I obeyed him. I have taken my own way-——I will abide by it.” “But what is to be done?” urged Mr. Forester. “There are practical considerations, you know ——” (CAN) a NOOKS (SO) An