The Argosy — page 339: what you’re looking at

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

320 Mr. Fermyn’s Racquet. rather—yes, she might as well own it to herself, she still loved him passionately, as she could never love again. She began to shiver; how changeable the weather was. ‘Think ot this long, bright beautiful day ending in rain! Yes, heavy rain. She listened to it, as she had listened last night. Only a shower, but a heavy one. She listened silently to the pattering, until it became fainter and fainter, and at last ceased. Then all at once there shone out the moon. She rose with a sigh, and pulled back the side curtains. Why, no wonder she had been cold! The side window was open. She looked far out of the window, away into the shadowy garden. The rain upon the grass, and the many-tinted trees glistened in the moonlight ; and suddenly, as she looked, a thought seemed to strike her, for she threw up the window even wider than before, and hastily thrusting her head out, strained her eyes down into the bushes. There was a whole bed of thick shrubbery just underneath. She stared and peered into it for a minute, and then drew in her head once more, and stood to think. She recollected something now, and rang the bell hastily, just as she had done last night. ‘There was the sound of her maid rising in the next room, and after an instant the door opened. Miss Raymond had already drawn the curtains and lit the gas. “Martin,” she said to the woman, ‘I wish you would shut this window. It is rather difficult. I suppose you closed it last night.” The maid went over and drew it down with some difficulty. “Tt zs stiff, Miss Aurora. Yes; it was to close it that I came in yesterday evening, after you had gone down the first time. Have you found what you lost, ma’am ?” ‘‘ [—I—believe so,” said Aurora, staring blankly before her. “Thanks ; that will do.” She believed so! After the woman left her, she started up, and slipped on a long, dark cloak : then hesitated, just for one moment, to consider. . The window was open when she had thrust the racquet so hastily behind the curtains at the sound of her aunt’s voice last night. The window was open and reached almost to the floor. She had half thrust, half flung the racquet, never even casting a glance behind the curtain. Why, the inference was clear enough. She must have flung zt outstde. Yes, there could be no doubt of it. They were all in the drawing-room ; it would be easy enough for her to slip out into the garden unobserved just now; but if they had all been in the passage and she had had to go straight through them, she would still have done it. She must satisfy herself instantly. But only to think of the racquet lying out in the damp and rain since last night! Mr. Jermyn’s racquet. CORNICLIOOKS eC)