The Argosy — page 344: what you’re looking at

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

An Inherited Husband. 22% presume, as you do not speak of yourself, that your circumstances and future prospects are satisfactory. I hope that it may be so. ‘¢ Yours very sincerely, “GRACE DAVENPORT.” II. A’FEw days later, Grace Davenport spent one afternoon and part of an evening with some friends on the Lido. Being a long-standing engagement, she was obliged to keep it ; but she left her friends early, for her sister had one of her receptions, for which the Palazzo Trench was rather famous. Grace obeyed her sister’s injunctions not to be late, and so she was coming home in the gondola of one of her friends, just as the sun had set. ‘The sky presented a picture such as can only be seen in Venice. The sunset had left a lingering warmth of colour behind it. In a few moments the glow faded, and, from the absence of twilight, in an incredibly short space of time the first pale gleams of moonlight were seen, and the eye accustomed to gaze overhead could have perceived at least one star beginning to glimmer in the paling sky. The soft colours seemed just suited to the little quiet figure lying so lightly back against the gay cushions of the gondola. She was a very pretty girl, with a pale, dark skin and large brown eyes, and abundant waving hair a shade lighter than her eyes. Her features were regular, and her expression spirited yet gentle. She looked very well that night in her soft, black dress. On her head she had fastened with a white rose a black lace veil, which she had learnt to wear as only an Italian or Spaniard can wear that most becoming adornment. She was deep in thought, for the letter which she had received and her answer to it had changed the whole current of her life. Out- wardly, everything was as before ; but how different she felt! Of her own free will had she asked this man, the very thought of whom she had hated, to come and try to overcome her prejudices ! At that moment the gondola was skirting the island of S. Lazzaro, and Grace was gazing absently at the low mass of buildings of the Armenian Convent, beginning to show clearly in the white light of the moon. She therefore did not notice that a gondola was swiftly approaching her until she heard the sudden rush of water against the oar which told her that a boat was coming to a standstill, managed as only a Venetian gondolier can do it. A second rush of water was heard, and Grace’s boat stopped also. To the girl’s amazement she saw that the gondola meeting her contained her brother-in-law, who ought to have been receiving his guests, and a strange gentleman. “Well met, Grace,” cried Charlie Trench, speaking as if he were out of breath. ‘I thought I should catch you just here. I must be off immediately ; but Barton has only a few hours to stay, so just show Comicooolks (SO) im