The Argosy — page 172: what you’re looking at

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

A Glove’s Evidence. 157 Lady Jakes loved to have her hair brushed. She was a vivacious little woman, and excitable; perhaps the action soothed her. She would sit by the hour before her toilet glass in an elaborately-trimmed peignoir, while Margaret stood brushing with slow monotony the thick, rather coarse, light hair, which afterwards had to be plaited and curled and frizzed. One day, little more than a month after Margaret’s arrival, mistress and maid were thus engaged, when the former said abruptly : ‘You wear no ornaments, Johnson.” ‘“ No, my lady.” ‘‘ Many mistresses forbid their servants to wear jewellery, but that can’t be your reason for wearing none. What is it?” “TI do not think jewellery suitable with deep mourning, my lady.” ‘But I am in the deepest mourning, and I wear these.” And Lady Jakes, holding up both her little white hands, smiled as she saw the diamonds flash. ‘“‘ Tt 1s a matter of feeling, I suppose, my lady.” “Do you think it bad taste—in plain English, zwlgar to wear these splendid rings ?” ‘“If I am bound to answer, I think it is scarcely in good taste, my lady.” The lady laughed a little scoffingly. Her ruddy cheeks grew ruddier. She bit her under lip. “You're a strange girl, Johnson,” she remarked presently, ‘‘ and you know a good deal more than I would credit most maids with knowing, who haven’t been out before. How you got your ideas of refinement puzzles me, but you ave got them. I’ve a good mind to put down my jewellery till I begin my second mourning. And—I like those plain black gowns you wear. ‘There is certainly a style about them, and the way you do your hair.” ‘““T wish I could catch a little of that girl’s manner,” she thought as she watched her in the glass. ‘I wish I were as tall and slim as. she is! What pretty hands she has—as white almost as mine—but they are not so small. . . . No. I am quite sure her hands are not so ? small as mine . From that day Lady Jakes laid by her rings, her thick gold chain. She ceased to friz and curl her hair. ‘The small white lisse arrange- ment rested securely on her head without the aid of diamond pins. She lowered her voice in speaking—when she could recollect. She moved about more slowly—when she had time. To her ser- vants it was no secret that Lady Jakes was copying her maid. They looked on as at an amusing comedy, and smiled. It was ‘“‘assize week” at Mudworth, a time of great importance in that old county town. To obtain a seat in court—to gaze for a few hours at the judge, the barristers, the jury, and the prisoners—was a species of mild dissipation in which Lady Jakes thought she might indulge, notwithstanding her recent widowhood. Accordingly she went. GoOmilGaooks (SO