The Argosy — page 141: what you’re looking at

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

126 A Capriccio. have believed it possible when I separated from mamma and the children, and when I was no longer queen over all I surveyed, as I had been in our little world at home. Yet it happened that now-a-days my thoughts did not always fly straight back home, as they would once have done. On the contrary, I often transported myself to a certain dingy little room in a London street, crumpling dusty leaves between my fingers, and listening to a certain eager voice that rang only too often in my ears. Generally, when I arrived at this stage of my reminiscences, I would feel Lady Corisande’s keen eyes fixed on me, and she would cry laughingly : * Ah! Celia. Of whom are you dreaming, Mignonne?” And like a baby I would blush and stammer out: ‘Of nobody—nobody. Indeed, it is nobody.” But I am afraid she detected my little falsehood, for she used to laugh gaily, saying she understood what I meant, and that “ nobody is sometimes the most interesting person in the world.” Then, glad of an excuse to mount her favourite hobby, she would entertain me with stories of her own successes in Paris, where, to judge from her own account, she had had all the world at her feet. Evidently her marriage with Monsieur de Mervil had been one of those loveless matches arranged by the parents of both parties, which, to my unsophisticated mind, seemed so cruel and miserable and unromantic ; and it was equally evident that Lady Corisande did not consider that the tie had been strong enough to warrant a very long widowhood. She informed me, in the most candid manner, that she had every intention of again assuming the bonds of matrimony, pro- bably even within a few months. One day I ventured to express my surprise that she had not done this sooner, since she had had so many suitors; and then without hesitation she confided to me her most private hopes. ‘¢ My sweet innocence,” she exclaimed carelessly ; ‘‘ I suppose you think these little matters should be hidden in the inmost recesses of the heart, do you not? Well, you are young; and I,” with a sigh, ‘thought so too when I was your age. However, I am now sensible enough to see that where the heart can go with the head, one may be sure that all is safe ; whereas, if the heart goes one way and the head another, you must be cautious, for if you yield to sentiment or tender feeling you are doomed to unhappiness.” ‘Oh, surely,” I interposed, “that is very selfish, madame?” With her craze for appearing to be as French as possible, it was one of her fancies that I should always address her as madame, instead of by her long and ceremonious English title. ‘Selfish and childish? Not that, but discreet. But I have done the best thing possible, and combined the two. My heart has gone forth,” she went on, rather sentimentally, ‘to one who is in all respects worthy to be loved for himself. He is young, charming, noble; and it is for his sake that I have treated my other admirers CORNIELOOKS (E(0)