The Argosy — page 183: what you’re looking at

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

166 The Mystery of Allan Grale. “Can’t I?” she repeated; and stood holding Mrs. Grale’s hands, and gazing out upon the trees in the last golden ray of the sunset. ‘““Can’t 1? No, perhaps I can’t.” “Ah, you can, you dear patient angel,” cried Mrs. Grale, rousing herself. ‘* But, then, how you do bear on is always a miracle to me. I could not do it.” “We can do what we must,” said Lady Laura, again gazing out- wards. ‘¢ Ah, well—perhaps,” admitted Mrs. Grale, flurried ; for she thought by the look on Mary Anne’s face that, perhaps, she was going too far in freedom with her ladyship. ‘‘ It’s when one does not know what it is one must bear that is the worst of all! It’s not knowing what is going to happen next, or even which way to look for it—that is more than I can endure.” “My dear Mrs. Grale,” whispered Lady Laura, gracefully sinking upon the sofa beside her, ‘‘if you really wish to get some informa- tion—or some sort of foreshadowing—some idea of what you have to hope or to fear, why don’t you apply to a medium ?” Mrs. Grale’s eyes and mouth opened. ‘‘ What, a spirit-rapper? ” she cried. “Oh, mamma!” exclaimed Mary Anne, deprecatingly. ‘“* Hush, dear,” said Lady Laura; ‘“‘I can understand your mamma’s prejudices. All the uninitiated have prejudices: I had them myself. They are soon dispelled by knowledge.” “Tm sure I know very little of the subject,’ said Mary Anne. ‘“* Nothing except what you have told me.” “Yes, dear,” said Lady Laura, turning to Mrs. Grale, “I mean what you mean by a spirit-rapper; but then J mean something very different from what is in your mind. Why!—you are a Scotch- woman—you must believe in second-sight ? ” ‘“Mamma believes in a great many mysterious things,” asserted Mary Anne. Now that she found her mother’s old world superstitions flourishing on fashionable ground, she was content to forego her former ridicule of them. “‘T have always known there must be something in second-sight, and in dreams and warnings,” admitted Mrs. Grale; “but they are very different from spirit-rappings.” “Very different,” assented Lady Laura, with her gracious little laugh: “‘as different as wild flowers, springing up one knows not how or where, are different from the cultivated blossoms of garden and greenhouse. We have a kind of philosophy of these things now— almost a science ! ” “T don’t know anything about philosophy, or science either,” said poor Mrs. Grale. “You know only a warm, loving heart and a faith that could move mountains,” whispered Lady Laura, tenderly squeezing Mrs. Grale’s hand. ‘How I wish you could see our gifted Bessie Tempest! She CONnnICMOOOKS (C(O) m