The Argosy — page 380: what you’re looking at

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

Paul Smith, A.R.A. 359 her fascination, slight in the beginning, were weighing on him and binding him, a willing captive at her feet. Nettled and fascinated, Paul Smith’s admiration was rapidly drifting into passionate and intense love, and the one object of his , hitherto objectless life was to win her affection. The féte at Steynham house came off in due time. The daily papers called it ‘‘a colossal success,” and gave unmitigated praise to the three tableaux preceding the ball. ‘King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid,” the first given, was remark- ably successful in reproducing the elaborate detail of the celebrated picture ; and after the curtain had risen and fallen twice upon it, was followed by Millais’ ‘‘ Huguenots.” | Lady Steynham had secured Mr. Beauchamp, a bachelor and a wealthy brewer, as an eligible representative of her niece’s lover ; trusting to his fortune to make up for any shortcomings. Lady May looked the part to perfection. ‘The ensemble was enhanced by real ivy trailing over the well imitated wall, and the flaming nasturtium and bluebell. The gem of the evening was undeniably the last—‘“‘ Love Tokens,” by the fashionable and popular artist, Paul Smith, in which, he him- self appeared as the king’s messenger, and the beautiful Lady Somer- ville as the ill-starred Francoise. Upon the black draperies of the background, the masses of ruddy, golden hair shone out in a flood of glory, as, with imperious gesture, she points to a glittering heap of broken jewels at her feet, the abject messenger of the king cowering beneath the outraged woman’s scorn. Now, and not until now, had Paul realised the truth. Seeing her in the well-remembered costume, it flashed upon him Lady Somerville and Isabel Gray were one and the same—the model, whose love and devotion he had lost ; he would not admit, even to himself, that he had despised it. His eyes met hers with a look of burning love. At that look of recognition hers fell, the colour rose ominously in her pale cheeks, and as suddenly faded away; her lips parted in a faint sigh. Swaying forward, she would have fallen, but for Paul, who rushed with outstretched arms to save her. To the loud applause succeeded a sudden hush. The curtain was dropped. Lady Steynham was quickly on the scene ; promptly giving the necessary directions. The guests were reassured, Lady Somer- ville’s faintness attributed to. the heat, and after a few moments, the curtain rose again upon the interrupted tableau. Paul longed to be alone with her. His heart was beating high with hopes of forgiveness : surely she could not be indifferent to the lover of her youth. Would the curtain never drop! At last, amid the sound of deafening applause, it fell; the tableaux were over; he was free to seek her. She did not enter the ball-room, but eluded him, and he and the admiring spectators looked for her in vain. CoOnnicboooks (S©) im