The Argosy — page 142: what you’re looking at

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

A Romance of the Cloister, 127 more she moved forward as if expecting an embrace, again to draw back. This lady dressed like a bride in rich white satin, occupying the mistress’s place, was hardly older than herself. Her father then had become a widower ; had married again. ** Be thankful that your mother has been spared this shame,” the old man added. ‘‘She went to her rest fondly assuring herself of her child’s pure intercessions. I attempt no force, remember; you are free to choose between the only safe and honourable asylum open to you, or—beggary. A man cannot dower his daughter twice, cannot receive under his roof a renegade, a perjurer.” He glanced suspiciously at the sad, dignified figure beside the shrinking girl. “And you, young sir,” was the scathing reproof. ‘‘ Search in your own conscience for the meed of such services. Ask yourself what recompense should await the palterer with the most solemn ordinances, the calculating sacrilegist bent upon gain. I have no more to say.” With a haughty wave of the hand he dismissed them, and but just in time. Already the guests bidden to welcome home bride and bride- groom had begun to arrive. As the dazed, sorrow-stricken pair now retraced their steps, they met carriage after carriage bearing visitors to the Chateau in gala dress. What a contrast was presented by these gay, careless new-comers and the castaways passing out! On entering the park a few minutes before, Etiennette had recalled a dozen familiar features with a transport of recognition. The beautiful home had seemed her own once more. Now, turned like a beggar from her father’s doors, she walked with downcast eyes and white face, never looking back. When they were on the high road, Elie bade her sit down, and opened his wallet. ‘* Let us rest awhile, let us eat something,” he said, with affected cheerfulness. ‘Truth to tell, the blow had fallen no less crushingly on himself. Might not this escapade, as it seemed momentarily to him, prove his ruin? He possessed nothing but his good name, the name of an honest workman. ‘That, he felt he had jeopardised past help. He could not return home in search of employment. Whither, then, should he bend his steps? But good feeling, a sense of protectiveness, and manly self reliance soon get the better of these dreary thoughts. And bitter as was his disappointment, affectionate as was his participation of her own, he felt glad that their intercourse had not yet come to anend. This friendship with a gentle, clinging, sensitive woman was the first real intimacy of his life. “Come,” he urged, trying to make her smile through her tears: “If we are not invited to a banquet, we have at least the remains of our breakfast. Just a morsel of bread and a sip of wine, to please me!” COnnicloooks (SO am =>)