The Argosy — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

62 Chiristobel. Mrs. Chisholm’s eyes, as she looked for a moment steadily at Gerald- ine. “Very kind!” she commented ; then, as if impatient of further con- versation, rose and moved towards the door. It opened before she reached it, to admit Christobel. As she advanced, her extreme pallor struck even Geraldine, while Mrs. Chisholm icily observed: ‘‘ The airof the moors does not seem to have done you much good, Miss Fane. I fear you must have fatigued yourself by walking as far as the quarry.” Then, as her victim sank into a seat without making any reply, she swept away with no more substantial satisfaction from her Parthian shot than the pleasure of having delivered it. “You do indeed look very tired,” observed Geraldine, kindly taking Christobel’s listless hand in hers. “I fear your attendance on my aunt has quite worn you out.” A little quiver ran through Christobel’s frame. Drawing Geral- dine’s hands up to her face, she laid her cheek upon them with a gesture at once childlike and passionate, murmuring in a low tone of exceeding mournfulness: “I am worn out, indeed; but not with watching.” The words, the action, so simple yet pathetic, touched Geraldine to the heart. ‘‘You are not happy, I fear. Can I—can nobody be of help:to you?” she asked gently and hesitatingly, fearing even while she longed to lift the veil of mystery which shrouded this alluring, inscrutable girl. “Vou are right,” said Christobel. ‘I am not happy; but I should be silent as to my sorrow, for I cannot explain its cause ; and I have no need, God knows, to heighten by any appearance of concealment the blame which must inevitably attend my present life.” “The blame!” repeated Geraldine in wonder. “ Do not even you—sweet and good as you are !—blame me for submitting to be maintained by your aunt?” Geraldine hesitated for one moment, but the next, meeting Chris- tobel’s proud yet appealing eyes, she answered readily: ‘‘ My aunt loves you; she is lonely and old. Why should she not keep you with her?” ‘You have a divine heart,” exclaimed Christobel, with a solemn fervour of conviction which robbed her words of all exaggeration ; ‘and I feel the full kindness of your generous words all the more that, from the moment of my mother’s death until I came to live with your aunt, my life was very lonely and loveless.” ‘ But surely you did not live alone?” “Ves. If to be alone means to be cut off from all companionship that does not harden and degrade.” “T can hardly believe you. You must have been hedged about with devotion.” Poor Geraldine as she spoke felt a passing pang of pardonable envy—a momentary revival of doubt and pain. m ECORNIECLOOKS. (Ee)