The Argosy — page 283: what you’re looking at

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

264 The Mystery of Allan Grale. I’ve wondered once or twice lately, seeing her pale face, whether,she is taking it to heart. But they say she has had good offers.” ‘Then I wonder she does not accept them. But, mamma, I think [ can tell you a secret—that Alny likes her more than you expect. I’m sure she has not a very happy time with her aunt.” ‘* And the estate won’t spare much money for her when her uncle is taken,” remarked Mrs. Grale, in that tone of easy solicitude which people use concerning the crooks in others’ lots. ‘ Miss Vivian of Dering Court will find a great change then, unless she can go on living at it with her brother George.” “ Tt is not likely George’s wife would choose that,” said Mary Anne, with an air of conviction. “Perhaps he won’t marry,” suggested Mrs. Grale. Mary Anne simpered consciously. ‘* Perhaps not,” she said: ‘‘but there is no doubt he would be very glad to do so.” “If he wants to, he may,” commented plain-spoken Mrs. Grale. ‘‘He has quite enough fortune and family behind him to make such an attractive young man acceptable in most quarters: he is the heir. I’m sure I’d not wish you a better husband than George Vivian,” she added pathetically. Mary Anne tossed her head. ‘‘ No wonder men are conceited,” she remarked, ‘‘if many women speak of them as you do, mamma. But they find out their mistake sometimes.” ‘Well, well,” Mrs. Grale answered in her inconsequent, plaintive style. ‘‘ I’ve never seen any good come of women refusing to submit to their natural lot. Men will be masters, and if they don’t get their will one way, they’ll have it in another; and there is nothing for us but to do one’s best to keep things smooth. I do wish Allan would come down,” she broke off suddenly. ‘‘He is later than usual.” ‘‘ Perhaps he came in late last night,” observed Mary Anne. “ T don’t know what time it was; I did not hear him. I can hear nothing in my bedroom at the end of that long thickly carpeted corridor,” bewailed Mrs. Grale. ‘I’m sure I lay awake long enough myself; I don’t remember when I have had so bad a night.” ‘It must have been through papa’s grumbling—coming after your excilement at seeing your old friend.” .» © T suppose so,” admitted Mrs. Grale. ‘I thought I never was to fall asleep, and when I did, it brought no better rest. It was all over again, a mixture of little bits of past and present, the lanes about here, and the old windmill there, and the fields I’d been talking of with Bell Matthewson. And once I woke up with a start and a cry, so that I disturbed your father. I had been dreaming of the Black Pool here, and that somebody was drowning in it. Not drowning acci- dentally, but—but »” Mrs. Grale stopped. Mary Anne gazed at her mother. ‘“ Do you mean—put in?” she cried, CORNICLIOOKS 5 m