The Argosy — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

140 Roy’s Good Samaritan. The quiet scorn in her eyes would have annihilated anyone less tough than Geoffrey Pierrepoint. But he only smiled cheerfully as he said, with unruffled good humour, “I hope I may tell her, then, that my errand is accomplished, and that Miss Bevan’s own good sense prompts her to release my cousin without delay from his foolish promise ?” “You may do no such thing. What is Lady Lucy to me, that I should consider her prejudices? Mr. Pierrepoint is of an age to know his own mind. Poverty, to me at least, is no novelty ; and if we choose to endure it together, who dares interfere ?” There was a proud flash in her grey eyes, and her swift look at Geoff was such a challenge that for a moment he could not find words to reply. In the pause the door opened, and a grey-haired man, bent rather with infirmity than age, slowly tottered into the room with the help of a stick. The likeness his handsome features bore to those of his daughter proclaimed at once the relationship between them. Her manner softened instantly. She sprang to meet the new comer, put his hand upon her strong young arm, and with infinite tenderness supported him to the well-worn leather chair in the chimney corner, where she hastened to make him comfortable with footstool and cushions. All this time she totally ignored the visitor, who, having risen and closed the door again, was waiting in some embarrassment till she should make him known to the master of the house. When the brief introduction took place at last, Geoffrey was unprepared for the old librarian’s courteous greeting and apology for an invalid’s infirmities. He spoke with an air of culture and good breeding which made one forget his shabby coat and poverty-stricken sur- roundings, and Geoff felt ashamed when he thought of the blank cheque in his pocket and his aunt’s offered bribe. ‘We know one Mr. Pierrepoint already, sir,” Mr. Bevan said, with a host’s gracious dignity. ‘“‘ Anyone of that name is welcome for his sake. Isn’t itso, Una?” turning to his daughter, who still hovered about his chair. An involuntary faint colour tinged her face which had been so pale before, and once more Geoffrey Pierrepoint marvelled at its rare beauty. To her father her slight embarrassment seemed only natural. His eyes rested upon her proudly, with a smile that was like a bene- diction, and then turned inquiringly upon the visitor, as though claiming the admiration Geoff was not loth to give. But he pre- sently remembered his errand, and pulled himself together sternly. ‘“T am an invalid just now, sir, as you see; and must leave my daughter to entertain you,” Mr. Bevan went on. ‘“ I know you are in good hands.” | Major Pierrepoint bowed, and murmured something inarticulate, wondering how his business was ever to be concluded ; for something in Una Bevan’s face as she stood with her hand on her father’s COMMICEOOOKS. EO m