The Argosy — page 164: what you’re looking at

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

Hester. 149 Hester for her part burned with a feverish impatience to find her- self once more at Guestwycke. Perhaps amid the old scenes her faith in Talbot would revive, and this horrible conviction which was forcing itself upon her would loose its hold. Alas! poor Hester ! Upon her arrival at Guestwycke on ‘Tuesday morning she found the quiet household stirred into gentle commotion. A fire burned in the large seldom-used drawing-room ; freshly-cut hot-house flowers were disposed about the tables. Mrs. Guest came to meet her in a strange flutter of excitement, though with the usual affectionate welcome. “My dear! You have heard the news! How little I guessed it when we last talked together! Mrs. Tracy comes to us this afternoon —we could not do less than ask her here—she who would have been our poor boy’s wife!” The old lady’s lips quivered. She made her young visitor sit beside her on the old-fashioned couch and began unfastening her wraps with trembling fingers. “Dear Hester! you will not mind driving back in the sociable this evening ? ‘The barouche must go for Mrs. Tracy ; we must show her every honour for Talbot’s sake ; or, better still ””°—-with a sudden happy inspiration—‘“ won’t you stay a few days and help us entertain her ? ” ‘“No, no; impossible!” Hester broke out, smitten with sharp and sudden pain. Mrs. Guest turned with a mild surprise in her bright old eyes. ““My dear! I would not press you against your will. You have many duties and engagements, I know.” Hester recovered herself with an effort. ‘“ Dear Mrs. Guest! I am always so happy here! Some day when you are alone again. . One visitor at a time will be enough for you.” “ Ah! well! it seems all so strange! If Talbot had but trusted us with his secret! Did you never suspect it, Hester? You and my poor boy were always friends ; indeed I once hoped” . . . . passing her hand caressingly over the girl’s auburn hair.—‘“ But it was not to bet" Hester writhed under the kind touch which almost broke down her composure. She could not speak a word. “You know this lady, I think, my dear,” Mrs. Guest went on. “Tell me, what is she like? Pretty? Gentle? Well-mannered ?” “Oh! don’t ask me!” poor Hester broke out, in uncontrollable agony. Her overcharged heart seemed bursting with pain. ‘Then in a stifled voice: ‘* I know—so little—about her.” “Tam not fond of strangers,” sighed Mrs. Guest. ‘I wish you could have stayed, Hester !—But of course she is very nice, and we are sure to like her; dear Talbot’s choice!” the mother consoled > herself softly. As Hester in the humble sociable reached the end of the avenue that afternoon, the returning barouche dashed in at the great gates of Guestwycke. The groom who was driving her pulled up to make VOL. XXXIX. | COMMCOOOKS (SO