The Argosy — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

The Missing Rubies. 69 wildered look came back, and she cast a wistful glance around, as if there were something that she had suddenly missed. “What is it?” he asked quickly. ‘‘ Have you lost anything?” “My bag. I was carrying it when—when I first caught sight of you on the embankment. I wish I could find the exact spot where I was when I saw you.” “You can’t be far from it,” he answered. ‘Only this long grass hides everything ; but I was always good at finding things, We'll have that bag in a few minutes, never fear.” It was now her turn to watch him, and as her eyes followed his movements, she silently asked herself whether this could be the same man who had so lately courted death ? In spite of dark days and divers misfortunes, there was nothing in Godwin Earle’s appearance that betokened a lack of prosperity. He was of middle height, slender, graceful, well-dressed ; with little to distinguish him from dozens of other thoroughbred men who may be seen going in and out of the West End clubs. His skin was sun- tanned, but the hair and moustache were fair; and the eyes, of darkest grey, could flash swift lights from under their heavy lids. His settled air of quiet melancholy told you nothing at first sight, and might easily have been mistaken for simple weariness. And yet, if you had looked closely into the face, you could hardly have doubted that the lines so deeply graven there were traces of bitter pain. It was something more than mere ennui which had driven this man to the verge of suicide, and sent him forth, a wanderer in deserted fields, to seek his death alone ‘‘ between the dawn and the daytime.” “Here is the bag,” he said, approaching her, after a brief search, with a leather satchel in his hand. ‘‘And now I hope you are going to get some rest and refreshment. Is your home near?” “T have lost my home.” Her voice was steady and quiet, but there was a ring of sadness in the tone that might have touched a far harder heart than his. ‘Ever since I was two years old I have lived with my grandfather in the village yonder. He died a fort- night ago, and now I am going to London.” ‘But you must know people in London? Surely you are not quite without friends ?” “I have only one friend ; my old governess. She is married, and I am to go and live with her. It was my grandfather’s wish.” “Where does she live ?” asked Godwin Earle, eagerly. ‘In Wimpole Street, Cavendish Square.” He felt a thrill of relief. This sole friend of hers was living in a good neighbourhood. It would have pained him to hear that she was to spend her days in some unfitting home. This girl, so gentle and refined in all her looks and ways, was not meant to pass her life among vulgar scenes and common people. It would have been hard to picture her amid uncongenial surroundings. Beatrice Ward was not regularly beautiful. Her features were COMIC OOO <S) Go