The Argosy — page 247: what you’re looking at

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

230 “* Her Francis.” seemed to be all talking at once. Helen’s words were the only ones out of which she could make any sense. ‘¢ How lucky that he left the telegram behind, otherwise we should have thought he had taken leave of his senses. I trust he will see his friend alive. He must, I think, have caught the Rome express. He certainly wasted no time in good-byes or explanations.” Mabel caught Helen’s eyes and the loving sympathy in them made her hide her face over the forgotten telegram which had become common property. It was as Helen had said. Francis Grantley had been summoned to Rome to the deathbed of a friend, and a glance at her watch told her that he could no longer be in Florence. For some days no news came from him. Helen thought it very strange, but as Mabel seemed only to think of his trouble, she kept her own thoughts to herself. Mabel, however, was only acting a part. As the days went by a small voice—a treacherous one it seemed to her—kept whispering that he ought to have found time to write—if only one word to complete those interrupted spoken ones. ‘Then she would recall that glance which they had exchanged and her joy re- turned in full. She would have found those days more difficult to pass through had she not been partly taken out of herself by the unexpected arrival of a dear friend on the evening of Mr. Grantley’s departure. This was one Hugh Sedley, a young man some years her senior, who was engaged to be married to her favourite cousin, Charlotte Burns. He was one of those sunny faced, bright eyed people who, when they have troubles win the sympathy of others at once. Huis trouble was » six months’ delay of his marriage, and he could not have found a more sympathetic recipient of all his thoughts and feelings than Mabel was at that moment. She needed distraction and she felt so sorry for any sort of disappointment to be borne, that by the time she had done the honours of Florence to him all day and let him talk everlastingly of Charlotte, they both felt their sorrows lightened. Helen Keith, however, who was not in Hugh’s confidence, felt a trouble grow within her the lighter theirs grew, but Mabel’s natural reserve made it impossible for her even to hint at a danger which perhaps might be merely imagination. She could only try to keep them apart as much as possible, and she succeeded so far well that Mabel spent the greater part of Christmas Day with other friends. Towards evening she returned, and seeing Helen and Hugh Sedley talking over the fire, she went up to her room and sat in the dusk, glad of this moment of solitude with her own painful thoughts. There must be some mistake! He must have written, and the letter had never been posted ; or in that busy season had miscarried ; and so perhaps he was blaming her too. ‘That some news of him would reach her that day, she felt sure. He would never let it pass without a word of greeting to the Keiths. CONNIE DCO KS (E(0) m