The Argosy — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

70 The Missing Rubtes. anything but faultless, although the blue eyes, deep-coloured and deep-set, had a singular charm of their own. But few critics could have quarrelled seriously with the oval face, and the pure cream-tints of the smooth skin ; and the slender, yet rounded figure, was mould- ed like a sculptor’s dream. Add to all this, an unmistakable air of good-breeding, and you will scarcely wonder that Godwin Earle, a man of fastidious taste, had begun to find his new acquaintance won- derfully attractive. Moreover, he was already beginning to be glad that she had drawn him out of the Valley of the Shadow, and led him back into the light of day. For months he had been living in solitude, embittered by a thousand cares, and half maddened by a sense of cruel wrong. He had parted himself from everyone he knew, and had led a hermit life, consumed by endless longings after all that he had known and loved best. And at last, he had found the burden of existence too heavy to be borne, and had made up his mind to fling it aside for ever. This girl, who had stepped in so bravely between him and death, had done something more. She had made life interesting to him again. He was not easily misled where women were concerned, and he recognised a sweet and pure nature in Beatrice Ward. She was brave ; but hers was by no means the dauntlessness of a strong-minded woman. It was the courage of a warm heart, passionately determined to save a soul from its own wild impulses. And the effort had cost her a great deal of suffering. | Although her complexion did not show many varying tints, the young face looked wan; and there was a deep shade under the eyes, giving their intense blue an almost unnatural lustre. But earnestly, with her very might, she strove to quiet her quivering nerves, and collect her scattered thoughts. ‘“T must walk on to the railway station now,” she said, after a little pause. ‘‘ My luggage is waiting for me there. I am going by the seven o’clock train, and I wanted to take a last walk through these dear old fields. Will you promise me one thing before I say good-bye?” She raised her face beseechingly ; and her sweet voice trembled, as it always did when she was deeply moved. ‘‘'What is it?” he asked, eagerly. “'That—that you will never try to fling away your life again. Promise that you will wait till God takes it. Promise to have patience, and bear your troubles to the end.” ‘“*T do promise,” he answered, gravely and solemnly. ‘I have not chanked you yet for having saved me; but you don’t want thanks. Trust me, I shall never forget the lesson I have learnt this morning. It will not be easy to face my life, but I am determined, now, to live it as a man ought to do. I, too, am going up to town, and I hope you will let me take care of you.” . She drew a long breath of relief. Young and inexperienced as she was, an unerring instinct told her that this man might be safely relied CORMIECMOOOKS» EC) Ee =