The Argosy — page 325: what you’re looking at

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

306 Catherine versus Kate. “Nay, waita moment. I told you this was my birthday. It is also hers. She is exactly eight years my junior.” “Ts she, sir!” “T have a feeling that she may come and see me to-day. For many years we have kept this day together.” ‘*< Indeed, sir!” ‘““T would rather not see her, Catherine. As you say, I doubted her and I offended her. I believe that she will come. But she will come with reproaches, not with love. I cannot refuse to see her ; but I would rather not look upon her face.” “Tt is not for me to offer advice, sir; but before you take a de- cided step, let me implore you to remember how little you know of a woman’s heart. You angered your cousin, but no doubt she has long ago forgiven you, and would go to the North Pole, or journey through Sahara, with her hand in yours. Sir, I speak from my own heart and my own experience.” “Yes, Catherine. You have loved. My cousin does not know what love is. She go to the North Pole, or journey through Sahara with her hand in mine! No, no. She will come to-day; but she will never look kindly on me again. I cannot brook her scornful gaze. At the very thought, my eyes seem to burn. Surely, surely they are inflamed! Look again, Catherine !” The housekeeper examined his eyes once more. ‘“ ‘They look weak, sir,” she said. ‘‘ Your eyes should avoid contact with the light, sir. Would you allow me to bandage them ?” ‘“‘ Certainly, Catherine.” She arose and quitted the room, soon returning with a large silk handkerchief, with which she tied up her master’s eyes. “Can I do anything more for you, sir ?” asked the housekeeper. ‘No, thank you,” he replied. Then Catherine retired, and the master was left alone. He did not stir. He continued sitting where the housekeeper had left him, giving way to a profound and melancholy reverie. “She did not love me,” he thought to himself. “She is not a woman like Catherine, to love as Catherine loved. She never seemed unhappy. She was immeasurably angry with me for a very small offence. And she has never written or taken any notice of me since I came here. No! _ I will not look upon her face again.” —~——_ As he uttered this resolution aloud, a servant opened the door and announced that a lady wished to see him; and, ere he could reply, the rustling of a silken skirt made him aware that the lady had already entered the apartment. ‘Then the door was closed. He and she were together, and alone. “Why, John!” cried the lady. “Ts that you, Kate?” asked he. “Tt is I, John. My dear John, what on earth is the matter with you? Are you ill? Why are your eyes bandaged ?” EOMIGIOOKS (EO) m