The Argosy — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Valeria. 95 worshippers from the West—such of his late congregation as had car- riages, that is to say—filling the tall pews with marvels of art millinery, and leaving suggestions of Piesse and Lubin about the fusty, doomed green baize. He was not at all gratified by their devotion: in fact, felt a certain grim pleasure in watching the numbers diminishing as the season waned, leaving place for the congregation he wished to draw to him. : September came and went, and he might have thought himself safe, for town was empty and the wicked world disporting itself abroad over the face of the innocent country. One day is very like another in St. Fridolin’s. But Eustace was country-bred, and even there felt the air charged with hints of moorland and heather, of tramps over the crackling stubble, and the sharp ring of guns amongst the yellowing copses. In town it was a day of semi-fog, and he had preached his morning sermon to an almost invisible congregation. “Don’t you know me, or wont you know me?” asked a voice of him suddenly, as he left the church by the vestry door. A figure in the fog, that seemed to lift and lighten as she approached, an out- stretched hand—a voice of silver—and the fairest face eyes ever looked upon. MHe touched the slim fingers doubtfully. “I beg your pardon, if for a moment | had forgotten you. You Delong to the days that seem so far away now. What has brought you to St. Fridolin’s P” She looked full at him with two great lovely inscrutable eyes. Eyes at once radiant with purpose and sparkling with fun. A long, steady, regal gaze, as of one who felt her notice an honour. ‘“You are not at all pleased to see me here,” she said, with her usual directness and a flash of superb astonishment in the violet eyes at the astounding discovery. “Tf you mean ¢here”—and he indicated the church—‘ I know many others whom I would sooner meet. ‘Those who have a better right there.” “But will they come?” asked Mrs. Damien, like Hotspur. “Tf I can bring them in. That is what I am here for.” “And can no one help you? Is there no work that anyone—that IT might do?” The Vicar glanced at the velvet gown and many-buttoned gloves of his would-be helper, and smiled with ironical pity. ‘ District-visiting? In a brougham, with a footman to hand round the tracts? Thank you. I am afraid we are hardly prepared for that yet at St. Fridolin’s. I beg your pardon,” he added hastily ; ‘ that was an unworthy speech. Forgive it. Why siould I refuse help so frankly offered? I really don’t see, though, what you can do for us.” Queen Rose looked so suspiciously meek that the Vicar might have known she felt sure of getting her way. “If you really think there is not a person here who would be the better for my help and friendship, I am answered,” she said softly. CoOnniclboooks (CO)