The Argosy — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

The Mystery of Allan Grale. 87 quite upset, having discovered that her lodger wears a wedding-ring ; a fact which she had failed to notice before.” “Her lodger?” interrupted Lettice; ‘‘Oh, you must mean the yellow woman !” “The yellow woman, as she is called,” assented Maria. ‘ Poor Mrs. Massey thinks it extremely wrong—‘leastways, bewildering, ma’am,’ she said to me—that Miss West, or Miss anybody else, should put on a wedding-ring. As she had asked my advice about taking the young woman to lodge with her, she considered it her duty to inform me as to the new trouble, and enquire what I thought of it.” “Silly old thing!” exclaimed Lettice. “I have known many young women who wore their own dead mothers’ wedding-rings.” ‘But not on the wedding finger,” said Maria, looking at her own right hand, where her mother’s wedding-ring lay loosely, under a half- hoop of diamonds rather dim in their old setting. ‘I suggested to Mrs. Massey,” she continued, “that probably poor Miss West, who seems lonely and friendless, has had some sad story of her own which she has had to live through. [think it not at all unlikely,” added Maria, ‘‘ for she appears to be a woman of sorrow.” ‘And quite mysterious with it,” said Lettice. ‘“‘ Mystery and sadness often go together,” sighed Miss Vivian. ‘¢ She is sad,” thought Lettice, with pity for Maria. ‘I wonder if it is about Allan Grale ? Iam sure there is some mystery connected with this strange absence of his.” “You should take a walk this fine afternoon, Miss Vivian,” sug- gested Charles Carr. ‘It is most delightful out of doors.” “Won't you go back with us, Maria, and have tea ?” cried Lettice, eagerly. ‘In the sunshine it is as bright and hot as summer.” ‘“‘'Too sunny for me,” said Maria. ‘We will not go home along the hot road,” said Lettice; ‘‘ we will strike into the woods and go round by the Black Pool. It is always shady there. Do come, Maria.” Maria Vivian’s face grew white. ‘‘ No, no,” she cried, putting up her hands with a gesture which must have meant only dissent, but which strongly suggested horror. ‘‘ No, no—I never go out in the sunshine now. It makes my head ache.” “But we could keep in the shadow of the trees all the way,” pleaded Lettice again, hardly understanding. ‘‘ Charles will see you back to the Court later.” “Tn the shadow,” echoed Maria: ‘“‘ Yes—I know—in the shadow ! Not to-day, dear Lettice, thank you.” So they walked home alone, mostly in silence. The visit had de- pressed both of them. Lettice was thinking how worn and sad Maria looked. Once she roused herself to speak. “Do you fancy, Charles, it can be Allan Grale’s prolonged absence which is telling upon her?” “Perhaps,” answered Charles. ‘But she must be in a nervous CONnniclooolkks (CO)