The Argosy — page 331: what you’re looking at

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

312 Caroline Heath. The guard, having stacked the luggage on the pathway, was mount- ing to his perch behind ; the coachman touched up his horses, and the old-fashioned stage rolled along on its way; the passenger who had spoken taking off his hat in parting salutation, meant probably for the young lady who wore the lily. The stage coach went onwards and was soon lost to sight; the guests for Squire Williams disappeared up the lane, fragrant with the wild roses and honeysuckle in its hedges. Farmer Heath crossed the road on his way to the farrier’s ; Caroline remained leaning on the gate. “By George, wasn’t that a handsome fellow!” ejaculated Tom. “ He’s the engineer-in-chief, [ll lay. Did you notice him, Carry ?” She did not answer; perhaps did not hear. In that man’s eyes she had recognised something of a kindred spirit to her own, and a feeling was stealing over her of the glowing possibilities which might have been in her life. If she could only meet them—only be emancipated from this dull, dreary existence and go out to find them. Ah, it was a sad world. ‘What nice blue eyes he had,” went on Tom. ‘‘ He was looking at you, Carry, all the time. It was the lily did that. Oh yes, he’s the chief of ’em.” 3 ‘What have blue eyes to do with engineering?” inquired Mr. Arkright. ‘A great deal when they are set in such a fine fellow as that,” laughed Tom, as he passed through the gate with Rover. “Will you not put on your hat and come out for a walk, Caro- line ?” said her lover. The crimson was slowly fading out of her cheek, called to it by Tom’s remark about the stranger looking at her. She turned round. “T should like to go very much; a walk would be pleasant this lovely evening, but I have not time. I have things to see to yet, and I feel very tired.” or Pred? 2 “Ves, I have been hard at work all day, one way or another.” She walked across to a rustic seat under a tree, and sat down; it was out of sight of the gate; Mr. Arkright slowly followed, and took a seat on the same bench. It was a lovely sky. ‘Caroline, when are we to be married ?” The question sounded so abrupt, for she had been thinking of anything rather than that, that she started and coloured painfully. He had placed his hands on his knees, bending a little forward to iook into her face, and thus awaited the answer. “T do not know; Ihave not thought about it,” she said, hesitating uncomfortably. ‘‘ Not yet.” “Not yet?—but why not? What do you mean? It is close upon six months now that I have been waiting for you.” CORNICLOOKS (C©) mM