The Argosy — page 124: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Valena. 10g somehow. I couldn’t think of him as anything else. I am sure that zs his name now.” “And he is—how old? Between thirty and forty, or older?” making a random guess at her age—possibly sixty. She knitted her delicate brows once more, and pressed her thin hands over her eyes. “T—I can’t think he is that. He must be young—quite young. Tall and fair like his father, with kind, bright eyes—blue eyes. I should know them anywhere, and Jack’s own smile.” Mr. Stannard frowned. Was this delusion, or wilful mystification ? He put the question aside for the present. ‘You must let me think this over before I can advise you. You may be much drawn to your son—your first-born—that I can well believe,’—she gave a low, yearning cry and stretched her hands out by way of response—‘“ but are you doing him a kindness in revealing the sad secret of his birth? Will he love you, or owe you any thanks for proving him base born?” ‘Base born!” she almost shrieked, starting to her feet again. “Never! Could I have lived till now if I had believed that? It was my father’s hatred of Jack made him say the word. Jack never would have wronged me. Never! ‘The marriage was a good one. He swore it when he thought he was dying, though he couldn’t rightly prove it. No; he may have lived to hate and forsake me, but he never dared to do me any dishonour, and, now that Oliver is dead, I'll move Heaven and earth that justice shall be done to my boy !” “Stop!” almost shouted the Vicar, startled out of all his com- posure. ‘ You must not. You shall not. Not till I have set before you what you are going to do. You are going to blacken the memories of your dead husband and father; to bring crushing dis- grace on your other children ; and to proclaim yourself—what ? Ask your son if he would not rather die believing himself peasant born Sut honest—than own for a mother the vile creature that you would make yourself out to be? Itis the act of amad woman. You come to me for help and counsel. I counsel, I command silence. Now and hereafter, silence. For the sake of your living children, for the sake of your dead husband and father, in the name of your unknown son, I enjoin it. This is the burden laid on you to bear to the end. Cast it from you if you dare.” He stopped abruptly, startled at his own vehemence and the effect of his words. Lady Valeria had shrunk away under his first indignant outburst, and cowered down in her chair beneath his out-stretched hand, all scared and white. ‘Then she began to tremble violently as in an ague fit; long drawn shuddering sighs escaped her, sighs that became sobs and ended in a passionate weeping. The Vicar was used to weeping women, to the vociferous, unrestrained lamentations of the lower orders, but he was struck with the oddly childish character COMiICcoooks (SO) im