The Argosy — page 35: what you’re looking at

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

22 The Village Blacksmith. Hastings? Holmes will tell you what to take her, and Mr. Hastings will be here at three,” said Mrs. Ryot-Tempest. Vera complied, never thinking this charitable mission was a trap to throw her with Mr. Hastings ; and when he arrived he was agree- ably surprised to find she was to accompany him instead of her step- mother. He looked so ghastly, however, that Vera refused to stir until he had had a glass of wine and some biscuits. After vainly protesting, he yielded, and ate and drank, while Vera scolded him for looking so ill. Whether the wine got into his head or not will never be known. As he had taken little or no food that day probably it did so; but when they got into the fresh air the curate found him- self in such an elated state, that on reaching the gate at the bottom of the drive he turned suddenly to Vera, and instead of opening it he seized her hands, and, to her utter amazement, exclaimed : Vera, I can’t go another step till I know your answer. I love you. God only knows how I love you. Is there any hope for me?” Something told him there was none before Vera spoke, and at first she could find no words to answer him. Her first impulse was | to laugh and say ‘‘ priests” did not marry ; but a glance at that pale, haggard face bent down so imploringly to hers forbade her to joke. Gently she disengaged one of her hands, and with the other she led him back towards a seat close by in the shrubbery. ‘* Come and sit down here for a minute, please.” He obeyed, and they sat down hand in hand. | “I am so sorry; so dreadfully sorry ; but I thought you knew about me,” began Vera. “Knew what? Oh! not that you care for anyone else?” he asked, suspecting from her words and manner it must be so. ‘Yes, and that in about a month he will come and take me away from my not too happy home,” said Vera gently. . The curate withdrew his clasp from Vera’s and buried his poor, thin face in his long bony hands. How long they sat there Vera never knew ; it seemed ages to her. Not a sound escaped from him; but now and then a little sob from her disturbed that silence otherwise unbroken, save for the happy birds singing above them. Happy birds! They know nothing of broken hearts and unrequited love, rejected addresses, and the thousand-and-one other ills human flesh is heir to. Thrice happy birds! Sing on, though your song be the death knell of the earthly happiness of one unhappy man. Presently Mr. Hastings rose to his feet, and Vera, dashing some tears from her beautiful eyes, rose too. Once more he took one of her hands in both his and she knew he had abandoned all hope. He would never make love to her again; nor, she suspected, would he ever make love to any other woman. ‘Tell me a little more, please,” he said gently. Vera told him in as few words as possible about Captain Raleigh, and why their engagement was forbidden. CORNICE OOKS. COM