The Argosy — page 212: what you’re looking at

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

The Village Blacksmith. 195 ‘to the Rectory. Vera’s heart stood still as she walked quickly past them, keeping the custody of her eyes in true religious fashion, though, indeed, her green spectacles rendered this superfluous. ‘Well, I don’t know that I ever saw one of the nuns out alone before all the years I have been in Woodford,” remarked one of the policemen as he passed Vera. “‘T count she has been up to see our young lady,” said Mark loud enough for Vera to hear. She quickened her pace after this encounter, and reached the station a quarter of an hour before the up-train was due. “Time,” says Rosalind, ‘‘travels in divers paces with divers per- sons.” She might have added: ‘‘ at divers seasons.” “The moving image of eternity” seemed to Vera to stand stock- still during that quarter of an hour; or, if he travelled at all, to travel backwards; each second seemed to her a minute, each minute an hour; each minute she feared to see the police return to arrest her, though she knew if the train were punctual she would be on her way to London before they reached the Rectory. At last the train came in only a minute or two late, and Vera jumped into a first-class carriage, ignorant or forgetful of the fact that holy poverty usually compels nuns to travel third-class. Her original intention had been to go down to Southampton that same evening and cross over to St. Malo that night; but on inquiring in London she found that the summer service had not yet begun and the boats only ran three times.a week, so there was no boat that night. This information disconcerted Vera at first, for she was very anxious to avoid going to an hotel alone, and equally anxious to get to Father Ambrose as quickly as possible ; but after a little reflection she decided to change her route and travel by Dover and Calais instead of vid Southampton, catching the mail-boat that evening at Dover. Before leaving London she telegraphed to her father that she was safe, for her conscience began to reproach her on his account now that all danger of being arrested was over. At Dover she removed her glasses, thinking it was no longer necessary to disguise herself any more than her nun’s dress disguised her; and to her relief she found two French nuns, of the Order of St. Vincent de Paul, on board the steamer, who, privately wondering who this lovely young Dominican could possibly be, travelling alone; and suspecting there was something wrong about her, for she was very reticent about her- self; took her under their protection. ‘They were going to Paris, and they persuaded Vera to travel with them instead of going by Rouen and Caen, which would take quite as long. ‘They promised to see her into the train for Avranches, and as this would give her an opportunity of getting a meal in Paris under the nuns’ wings before starting, Vera gladly accepted their offer. It soon became clear they intended to look sharply after their new GoOnmilGaooks (SO) mn