The Argosy — page 140: what you’re looking at

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

Mary Sulver. 125 Gradually, but surely, his visits to Vine Cottage ceased. Old Mrs. Silver, accustomed to be treated with courtesy and not caprice, felt very angry with the young man. She observed to Mary that she felt sorry ever to have given him so warm a welcome, and that the man was not worth a remembrance. The only time Mary could now count upon seeing Frank was at their organ lesson, and then they were never alone. And thus, and thus, they drifted apart. On Christmas day, the day of peace and goodwill to all men, Mary neither saw nor heard anything of the one most dear to her. She did not see much more of him when the school met again. Lent approached, and passed onwards to its close, and the estrange- ment still continued. Mary’s heart was very sore within her, and the sad and sombre melodies of the passion hymns were well in keeping with her own feelings. Who would not be touched by the grand old tune “St. Bride,” every note of which sounds like the sob of a stricken heart? ‘The great voice of her favourite organ had never been to Mary more human and appealing than it was now; it seemed to be praying with her, striving to comfort her. She had spent many hours of happiness with it, and the hours she now spent with it were sorrowful hours ; but it was still, as ever, her faithful friend. Easter came in, but the ‘‘Queen of Feasts” did not bring back Mary Silver’s lost lover. How different an Easter was it to Mary’s last, only one little year ago! She was traversing that painful bit of life past which so many of its pilgrims have had, alas, to tread before her, earning their bitter experience, as so many more will have to tread again. Spring passed on into summer, the roses blossomed and fell, the end of the term came again, and Frank had never come back to his allegiance. It was Mary’s last term; she was to leave the school now. She still lived on in the “‘ hope deferred that maketh the heart sick,” so fond and credulous is loving woman ! The long vacation wore away. And when the School opened again and the students reassembled, Miss Grey came back to it as Mrs. Frank Templeton. Mary already knew it. On the last day of the vacation Clara Latimer—engaged to spend the day with her at Vine Cottage—car- ried down the news. “Don’t let it disturb you, Mary, dear,” said Clara. ‘‘ I once thought he paid you a good deal of attention, and that you—you rather liked him ; but he was never worthy of you.” Mary did not cry or faint. She had turned very white at the first moment, but she was able to maintain an outward calmness. ‘Will you do me a great kindness, Clara,” she said, in a low tone: not to speak of it, or of him, any more.” And Miss Latimer understood. But in the evening, when her guest had gone, Mary went up to her COnmicbooks (CO)