The Argosy — page 107: what you’re looking at

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

92 The Mystery of Allan Grale. sent him to ask Dr. Palmer for a sleeping draught, and hoped he. would excuse its being near eleven o’clock. Telling James he would bring the draught round himself, the Doctor turned into his surgery. He thought it might be as well if he saw Mrs. Grale; in his opinion, she had latterly been looking very ill. Getting what he wanted, he followed James. The prolonged waiting for her son, ever looking for him by night and by day, and the despairing disappointment when he never came, had at length told upon Mrs. Grale. ‘The once plump woman was wearing to a shadow; her cheeks became thin, her eyes sad; and not being able to talk about the matter—for Mr. Grale would not let her—kept away the little consolation which that might have imparted. This afternoon’s post had brought her another letter from her sister in Scotland. The Savoch letters came pretty frequently now; oncea month, or so; and their principal theme was ever the same: Mrs. Gibson’s uneasiness and Mrs. Gibson’s dreams. ‘The dreams were much the same as the first one had been—ever some grievous distress connected with a weird, dark-looking pool, in which distress Mrs. Grale seemed to share. The present letter contained, amidst other items, the following passage : “You still tell me, Polly, that Allan’s not come home yet and that you can’t hear of him anyway. I’d not like to make you uneasy for nothing, but don’t you think some harm must have happened to him? He appears in these dreams of mine (as well as that other person I’ve mentioned to you), and both of them with the palest and saddest faces you ever saw.” This was quite enough to upset Mrs. Grale. After an hour or two of giving way, her distress culminated in a violent fit of sobbing and crying, which alarmed her maid. Mrs. Grale was at home alone. Mr. Grale had run up to London for a couple of days on business ; Mary Anne had gone to assist at the celebration of the wedding of a young friend at Carstow, and would not return home until the morrow. ‘ Pettham called it a fit of hysterics, Doctor, but ’twas nothing o’ the sort,” said Mrs. Grale despairingly to Dr. Palmer, when he had arrived and they were sitting together. ‘I never had hysterics in my life ; I’m not a fine lady ; it was just a fit of sobbing that I couldn’t keep down.” “You have looked sad and ill of late, my dear lady,” said the Doctor, soothingly. ‘I have remarked it. I fear you are fretting after your son.” Melted by the words and tone, for they bore, perhaps unconsciously to the speaker himself, a strangely mournful sympathy, Mrs. Grale and her reticence broke down together. Without any reserve, she sob- bingly imparted to Dr. Palmer all the uneasy sorrow of the past, as connected with Allan, including Mrs. Gibson’s dreams, and the dream, so similar in its features to those, which visited herself the very night CORNICMOOOKS.COMn