The Argosy — page 245: what you’re looking at

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

228 “* Her Francis.” IV, THAT was not the only time that Mabel Talbot and Mr. Grantley discussed the ‘‘ charming girl” who had permitted herself such a liberty with his letter. But though he persistently stood her champion, it did not prevent his falling—and very completely too— in love with this very pretty young woman of two-and-twenty who was as fresh and merry asachild. No day passed without his seeking Mabel. One day he overtook her carrying a book from the library. ‘Mrs. Oliphant’s Life of St. Francis! Ah! my namesake,” he said, taking her book from her. ‘More likely your namesake if he had been St. Frank,” answered Mabel laughing. He laughed too as he said: “ That does not sound very saint-like. But, as it happens, I have never been called Frank in my life. My dear mother disliked the abbreviation ; and, oddly enough, at school, though my nicknames were numberless, Frank was not one of them.” As he told her this, Mabel felt that it was no use saying any more against herself. The children had been right, and she had found a Francis after all. But was he /er Francis? From that day she felt an absurd jealousy of that ideal young lady traveller. More than ever did she dread the thought of his discover- ing her identity with herself. She became even more vigilant in concealing all writing of hers and also avoided the subject as much as possible. Helen Keith, however, who had long known his side of the story, brought it up one day during a walk up the hills to Fiesole, the little Etruscan city which overlooks Florence. “No,” he answered. ‘‘I have not seen the handwriting, but I shall see it one day.” Then he had one of his hearty laughs, in which Helen could not help joining. Mabel on any other subject would shave laughed too. ‘¢T know I shall see it,” he continued; ‘‘ I feel it in the air. Don’t you feel things in the air, sometimes, Miss Keith ?” “Ves, I feel a Tramontana like to-day.” And Helen shivered as the fierce north wind met them, and drew a shawl up to her face, but it was chiefly to hide a smile. She knew Mr. Grantley’s feelings for Mabel ; also the latter’s ridiculous and evident jealousy—a fact which could not but give him hope. “How practical you are, Miss Keith. You seem to take a delight in snubbing me. You snubbed me, I remember, the first time I had the pleasure of speaking to you.” “Did I? Then I beg your pardon. I won’t do it again.” ‘ But I like it,” hesaid quickly. ‘* Pray snub me—in your own way ——as much as you like.” “Tf you talk of feeling a strange handwriting in the air, I warn you that I shall do so.” CORNICLIOOKS ye)