The Argosy — page 381: what you’re looking at

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

360 Paul Smith, A.R.A. The following day Lady Somerville’s house was besieged by callers : all London left cards of inquiry. Among others, Paul Smith, who, hearing she was better, ventured to call again later in the afternoon. He was told, ‘‘ Her ladyship had left town.” aL. IsABEL had sought safety in flight. Why? He had discovered her secret. What then? As he asked himself, a smile flitted across his face. She was afraid. Of whom? Herself! Paul Smith had recognised her, and the selfsame moment she had discovered the secret of her love. She fled, carrying with her, indeed, the vision of revenge she had planned, overwhelmed in the joy that filled her heart. She was buta loving, pitiful woman, incapable of the scornful rejection of the love she longed for and which was now humbly laid at her feet, to be refused—rejected. ‘Trembling for herself and her weakness, she fled ; but only to return. Yearning to see him again, after some days’ wearying, she plunged once more into the galeties of town. Her well-known equipage and lovely face were seen in the park. And although she fought against her love and denied herself to Paul, invariably being “‘ not at home” to him, a day came when she could no longer refuse the interview he asked. In answer to his letter he was ushered into a prettily furnished room. Through a glass door, opening upon a small garden, he saw Isabel’s slender figure in softly falling white drapery. With slightly heightened colour, she entered and greeted him. There was a moment of embarrassing silence. She was the first to recover her composure, as seeking to release her hand from his, she murmured : ‘* Mr. Smith, I hope ; What she hoped, he never asked. Covering the hand he held im- prisoned in his own with kisses, he, in burning words, besought her forgiveness, and more than that, her love. With a fluttering movement, she sought to withdraw her hand from his firm grasp, then suddenly she let it lie passive in his. He looked up. ‘The shadow of a smile dimpled the corners of her mouth, as she softly uttered: ‘‘ This to me, the despised model ! ” Encouraged by the tone of her voice he attempted to fold her in his loving arms; but with a forbidding gesture she drew back. ‘‘Tsabel, don’t send meaway from you! All these long years I have wanted you, and my lonely heart has ached for the love that was lost to me. And now that I am more worthy of you—now—you will not refuse to let me call you mine?” ‘““Mr. Smith, you are paying me the highest compliment in offering me the hand and heart you refused to Isabel Gray. You can more fittingly bestow it on Lord Somerville’s widow: I shall not disgrace COMMICOOOKS.E@ im