The Argosy — page 360: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Valeria. 339 “Come in!” she cried, imperatively, without looking to see who entered. ‘‘I have been waiting for you. Lie down there.” A great black tom-cat rose from the soft, shabby cushions of the couch, and, after arching his back and turning his green eyes suspiciously on Elsie, vacated the place in her favour. She dropped down gladly, and lay with her eyes closed for a while. Above her hung a blurred and tarnished convex mirror, round which damaged white cupids, noseless and armless, frolicked in chipped and blackened garlands of roses, on one of which was hitched a dried snake-skin. Beneath was a horrible little human figure into which the roots of some tree had twisted themselves, helped by some rude carving. It seemed to be pointing at Mrs. Beltran, and she gave it a friendly glance at times. She looked attentively, but without rising, at Elsie’s white face and closed eyes, and then extended her hand lazily to a low table near her on which steod a curious little vessel, a silver ball standing on three feet, the upper part perforated, and in one of the holes a silver tube. She gently drew with her lips at the tube once or twice. A sweet spiced vapour ascended in filmy spirals and diffused itself through the room: not a drowsy or languid perfume; pungent and stimulating rather. Mrs. Beltran inhaled it with long, deep-drawn breaths, and the great cat came with a noiseless run, and would have sprung at it, but for a sharp command from his mistress that sent him crouching down with greedy eyes. She lent forward so as to hold the ball within a few inches of Elsie’s face. The girl’s nostrils quivered, her eyes opened and looked about brightly, and she rose with a smile. You were waiting for me?” she asked. Mrs. Beltran replaced the vessel on its stand, and flung herself lazily back again, her long white arms tossed over her head. Her unbound masses of glossy, faintly rippling, blue-black hair streamed over her loose crimson wrapper. Her naked, yellowish-white foot balanced a velvet slipper on the toe. “Little fool!” she spoke, with contemptuous good humour, “you doubt me, you try to deceive me, and would like to keep away from me—if you could.” Elsie made a hasty gesture in protest. ‘You never meant to come here and tell me about your visitors, you know. Don’t then. And don’t come to me in your troubles. Stay away, and try what your grand friends can do for you.” “TI did send a message to Mrs. Damien,” Elsie admitted. ‘‘ On Saturday, after we had heard from Sammy and were all so miserable ; and Miss Archdale has been here just now. She was very kind— but ——” “But just a little too late in showing it, eh? You didn’t feel to want consoling much by that time?” “It was just as kind of her to come Are you a veritable simpleton or only a make-believe?” Mrs, 9 CORnniclbooks (S©) im