The Argosy — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

The Story of Charles Strange. 103 when she got outside. ‘Not much matter! if ever I heard the like of that! A whole trunk fu/// and some of ’em /gvely /” ‘Will you sit down now, my lady, or wait for his lordship?” inquired Sanders. Lady Level answered the question by taking her place at table. She felt as though she should never care to wait for his lordship again, for luncheon or anything else. In a few minutes a cab dashed up to the door, bringing him. * That’s right, Blanche; I am glad you did not wait for me,” he began. ‘‘ Sanders, is my hand-bag ready?” ‘Quite, my lord.” ‘Put it into the cab, then.” He hastened into the study as he spoke, and began putting things straight there with a deft and rapid hand. In an incredibly short time, the papers were all in order, locked up in their various re- ceptacles, and the table was cleared. ** Good-bye, my love,” said he, returning to the front room. “Do you not take anything to eat ?” asked Blanche, in short and sullen tones, which he was in too great a hurry to notice. “No: or I should lose the train.” He caught her to him. Blanche turned her face away. “You silly child! you are cross with me for leaving you. My dear, believe me, / could not help it. Charley is coming up to dine with you this evening.” Leaving his kisses on her lips, but getting none in return, Lord Level went out to the cab. As it drove away, there came up to the door a railway luggage van. The lost box had arrived from Paris. Timms knelt down with extra fervour that night to offer up her thanksgivings. Lord Level had snatched a moment to look in upon me, and ask me to dine with Blanche that evening. “She is not pleased at being left alone, he said;” “but I am obliged to run down to Marshdale. And, Charley, she saw some- thing about Tom in the paper this morning: I had to turn it off in the best way I could: so be cautious if she mentions it to you.” I had meant to look again after Tom Heriot that evening, but could not refuse this. Blanche was unusually silent throughout dinner. “Is anything the matter, Blanche?” I asked her, when we were in the drawing-room. “A great deal is the matter,” she replied, resentfully. “I am not going to put up with it.” ** Put up with what ?” “*Oh—with Lord Level. With his—his deceit. But I can’t tell you now, Charles: I shall speak to himself first.” I laughed. ‘More jealousy cropping up! What has he done now, Blanche ?” cConniclooolkks (C(O)