The Argosy — page 342: what you’re looking at

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

Mr. Fermyn’s Racquet. 323 desire came over me to hold it, and to look at it. Then, when I heard my aunt’s voice, I pushed it hastily behind the curtains, and when I came up an hour afterwards, and found it gone, and knew not how it had gone or who had taken it, I cannot tell you what I felt. This is the real truth. It is only a few minutes ago that, seeing my window open, it suddenly occurred to me about the garden.” He stared at her, and stared at the racquet in her hand; then all at once started and looked up at her again. “You have found it out?” he said, quickly. ‘‘ You know then— at last.” “Ves, I have found it out,” she answered, opening her hand and showing the locket. ‘‘I understand all—I am so sorry !—I have regretted it bitterly.” ‘‘T have been sorry ever since,” said Mr. Jermyn, abruptly and huskily. ‘‘It was all, every bit of it, my own fault.” ‘No, no,” she interrupted, with vehemence. “ It was all mine.” She made a rapid movement to get up the staircase, but he barred the way this time. | “Aurora,” he said, ‘‘ listen: it was both our faults; or it was no- body’s fault—not even the racquet’s. It was all a mistake.—Oh, Aurora! Let us begin it all over again.” ‘““ Cuckoo—cuckoo ! ”—ten lusty times. It seemed almost as if there was a ring of amusement in the little bird’s voice; but neither Miss Raymond nor Mr. Jermyn noticed it. Five minutes later Miss Raymond went up the staircase uninter- ruptedly, but looking strangely beautiful, even for her; and Mr. Jermyn passed into the drawing-room with a radiant face, and the racquet in his hand—to tell such story as seemed good to him. (oa COM JOO cs) (SO) an