The Argosy — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

The Village Blacksmith. III Mrs. Ryot-Tempest had wounded her husband in his tenderest point ; she had aspersed the honour of the Ryot-Tempests. He was not concerned so much for Vera as for himself; and this not only because, like most men, he was selfish, but because he did not deem it possible that anyone besides his wife would give credence to Mark’s story. No doubt in the morning Vera would give a satisfac- tory account of what had occurred, though this could not change his feelings to his wife. She had sinned unpardonably. Even if he for- gave he could never forget her conduct; and it is doubtful if we ever really forgive what we do not also forget. When the daylight found its way through the shutters the Arch- deacon put out the lamp and fellinto atroubled sleep from which he was awakened by the first bell, when he went upstairs to his dressing- room and took a bath to refresh himself. At half-past eight he went down to breakfast, and found that his wife, who had been interviewing Mark, was already down; a very unusual thing ; for she often break- fasted in bed. He did not speak to her, but on Vera’s entrance a minute or two later, he kissed her with more affection than he usually evinced, and asked anxiously how she was. Mrs. Ryot-Tempest took no notice of her step-daughter, but Mark’s story having reached Vera’s ears through Mary, she was at no loss to account for her step-mother’s silence, which she met with an air of supreme contempt and indifference. During breakfast, which was eaten in almost dead silence, the post-bag was brought in, and on opening it the Archdeacon handed Vera the letter she was expecting from Father Ambrose: on reading which her face softened and a look of delight spread over it, which did not escape her step-mother, who suspected the letter was from Captain Raleigh. At last the silent meal of which no one partook very freely came to an end. Mrs. Ryot-Tempest leant back in her chair and for the first time that day addressed her husband. ** May I inquire, Archdeacon, what course you intend to pursue with regard to this terrible business ? ” “IT cannot decide that until I learn from Vera exactly what took place last night,” said the Archdeacon coldly, not raising his eyes from his paper, which he was pretending to read. “Then it would be as well if you would come to some decision as soon as possible; otherwise you may have the police here to arrest your daughter before you have decided how to avert such a dis- grace,” said Mrs. Ryot-Tempest in an indifferent tone, as if the arrest of Vera was not a matter of any very great importance. ‘The police here to arrest me! What does Mrs. Tempest mean, papa ?” said Vera with a scornful little laugh. “What I say; to arrest you for shooting Mark Brown, who sur- prised you in the act of giving my diamonds to some accomplice. Probably to Reuben Foreman, who I understand was closeted with you the greater part of last evening,” said Mrs. Ryot-Tempest. ECOnnicloooks (SO) am