The Argosy — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

18 FAITHFUL. UNTO WDEATH. WE had been out shopping all the afternoon and got home, very tired, at ten minutes past six. Aunt Di was cross. We must be keeping the dinner waiting, she said, and she laid the blame upon me. -Eva Bellair ran into the hall as we entered, and were putting down sundry small parcels on the slab. ‘¢Dinner’s waiting, Miss Dinah,” she said. ‘It’s past six.” “T know it,” returned Aunt Di snappishly. ‘“ It is Grace’s fault— looking for half an hour at a frock-piece or a ribbon before she decides upon it!” Oh, Aunt Di, I’m not as bad as that,” I said. ‘‘ We had a good many things to buy, you know; and in a little country place like this, with just its one or two drapers’ shops in it, we have not the choice that is put before us in large towns.” ‘And in choosing things for one’s wedding, one must be particular, Miss Di,” put in Eva. Her tone was peculiar, full of covert mockery, and I turned from the slab to look at her. I was beginning to doubt Eva’s good faith ; I had doubted it for some little time. She looked wondrously beautiful. <A slight, graceful figure, standing there in her dinner dress of soft pink cashmere, faced with satin, adorned with lace; her keen eyes, of violet, veiled within their long lashes, her expression of face innocent as the day. But I doubted her. Aunt Dinah was going up the stairs. ‘‘ You can tell them to serve dinner,” she said to Eva. ‘I shall not be long.” Neither was I long. In five minutes I had changed my frock—as we girls called it then—for my simple black silk, with its bit of good white lace at the throat and wrists. We were still in slight mourning for my father. As I stood hastily doing my hair, the glass gave back a pleasant thoughtful face, though not a handsome one. The auburn hair was soft and silky, the complexion fair, the grey eyes were steadfast, honest eyes, the features insignificant, nothing to boast of. All the time I was contrasting my poor face in a sad sort of manner with the handsome face, the brilliant colour and the flash- ing violet eyes of Eva Bellair. Alas, I had reason to fear she was stealing my lover from me. They were going in to dinner when I went downstairs. Aunt Di had done nothing in the way of dress, except to put on a smart cap with peach blossoms in it ; she was too tired, she said. She took the head of the table as usual, and Margaret went into Tom’s place at the foot; I and Eva sat side by side, opposite the fire. ‘Tom had not come home to dinner that evening ; it sometimes happened so. We lived plainly. The superfluities of modern days had not then COMMICOOOKS. EO im