The Argosy — page 348: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Valeria. 327 Mrs. Damien had arranged after her own ideas of comfort, and which looked strangely foreign and bare with its polished boards, filmy muslin draperies, and complete absence of heavy or needless orna- ment. All colour and brightness seemed concentrated in one spot, where Aunt Mamie stood presiding magnificently over a table piled with flowers, fruit and coloured sweetmeats till it looked like a giant nosegay ; and dispensing the contents of a mighty silver bowl all dimmed with a chilly dew from the clinking blocks of ice that floated in a golden tinted mixture amongst slices of pineapple, spirals of lemons, and only Aunt Mamie knew what besides. Aunt Mamie herself was a goodly sight. Her scarlet handkerchief was the brightest point of colour in the room; her white teeth flashed in delighted smiles; her great gold earrings swung and twinkled with each movement; her high cap and apron were so fresh, so frilled, so marvellously beyond all imaginable results of mere clear-starchery, that they might have been whipped to a froth out of sugar and snow and sent home by the confectioner. ‘‘ Nobody there!” said Hester, softly. ‘ Nobody.” About a dozen people came under that description, and she pro- ceeded to tell them over mentally. ‘The Lepells as usual—Mr. Lepell with his croud of girl worshippers. ‘There are the Bostonians, those dreadfully cultured, pretty girls who know more about England than anyone over here can ever tell them, and have a theory ready made to account for everything. Lady Beatrix talking nonsense with her mouth full of strawberries, with all the men in the room admiring, except her husband. I wonder who that is bringing her an ice? I’ve seen him several times here lately, I think. Handsome, distinguished- looking and badly dressed. He must be a somebody to go aboutina coat like ¢Aat; besides, she looks so gratified at his attention. He’s not listening to a word she says. He’s looking right over her head at Rose. Who is Rose talking to? I wish someone would move and let me see. A lady—Lady Monchalsea/” WHester’s little foot gave such a vicious little stamp that Roswal lifted his head with a jerk and looked all attention. ‘‘ Wicked old woman! I thought she was dead ! She shall see / am alive presently.” Mrs. Damien swaying gracefully in her big cane rocking-chair was waving idly her feather fan, and listening with absent eyes to the authoritative remarks of an imposing lady, who seated bolt upright, one foot on a stool, surveyed the company with a sort of magisterial air through a great gold eye-glass, all unconscious of being surveyed in her turn by the calm, handsome eyes of one of the fair Bostonians, evidently noting and storing up her peculiarities for future study— as a type. Lady Monchalsea had a thin, high-pitched nose and voice, and spoke in studied phrase. ““My dear,” she was saying, “of course, in these days, thanks to Cook, every human creature has a chance of going everywhere. It is not what we see, but Zow we see it, that must be considered.” GOMIGIOOKSHGO im