The Argosy — page 111: what you’re looking at

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

96 The Mystery of Allan Grale. might match and rival herself, who laid shadowy claims to the blood of the Plantagenets ? “T have said that I have absolutely nothing to show,” asserted George. And this time, both his uncle and Miss Grale understood that no further entreaty was to be tendered. The General felt that the conversation wanted shifting a little. A man of war from his youth, he had yet always had a peculiar shrink- ing from all moral and mental jars. His nephew, George, had once said that he believed his uncle had married his wife out of sheer admiration for her skill and endurance in those society skirmishes from which he fled. ‘‘T can understand the pleasure of going back to old sightseeings after a spell of dreary monotony,” he remarked. ‘‘ When I returned from the Red River in 1870, I was detained two or three days in London before I could get to Dering, and I can tell you, I went to every place where I had been taken in my holidays from school—to the Monument, and the Abbey, and the Cathedral; aye, and to Madame Tussaud’s and the Lowther Arcade! FEvery place was a treat after that endless prairie.” ‘Oh, yes,” said Mary Anne. ‘‘ The endless prairies E ‘And the Red Indians, and the queer kind of food,” interrupted Mrs. Grale. ‘ But Dering is not the endless prairie. I should not have thought Mr. Vivian would have grown so weary of sweet Dering woods,” Mary Anne went on, sentimentally. “‘He will be wearying of Dering people next ; if he has not done so already,” said Mrs. Grale, witha faint smile. ‘“* But that may be easily remedied. There are plenty of new people who will be very glad to come to Dering.” For which speech Mary Anne could have shaken her mother. People in society did not give out hints of that kind! But a diver- sion was created by the sight of a railway porter coming up the avenue with a telegram. Mrs. Grale’s thoughts flew to Corrabuin; and all the sick suspense, which she daily had to suppress, returned upon her. She forgot the possibilities of the incident ; she forgot her manners. ‘‘ Oh, is not that for me!” she cried. ‘‘I have been expecting one for—oh, so long! They may have sent the man after us from Moorland House.” “Tt is not likely they would send after us,” said Mary Anne, frigidly. She added in a terrible whisper, ‘‘ Mother, sit still.” For the poor lady was fain to rise, in readiness to receive the telegram. George Vivian stepped to the terrace steps and took the missive from the man. “Tam sorry, Mrs. Grale,” he said, quietly, “ but it is for me.” Mrs. Graie heaved a sigh. George did not seem in any hurry to open the envelope. Mrs. Vivian spoke. ‘Have you no impatience, George? Even the conventional CORNICE KS 4 (EC) am ;