The Argosy — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

42 The Results of a Hunt Week. ‘Vou are satisfied?” he asked. ‘‘ Satisfied?” she echoed contemptuously. ‘‘ And do you know, Mr. Seaton, I believe we have always been the best of friends without knowing it. Extremes meet; and you may depend upon it, ‘ dearest foes,’ who can never let each other alone, only want an excuse to drop the mask, and be the staunchest of allies. Their case, at worst, is ten times more promising than the friends one is always disinclined to see.” He escorted her to her carriage with marked deference, and, that done, despatched one letter only by the evening mail. Then he wrote another note, and sent it with some pheasants to the Rectory. It ran thus: ‘ Dear KNIGHT,— Forgive and forget, and dine with me to-morrow night at 7.30. You may do so without offence to your conscience, since I have pardoned the child you told me I did not love. ** Yours, G. SEATON.” He had scarcely accomplished this, and leant back in his chair to review the many consequences that must arise from his actions and those of others on this never-to-be-forgotten day, when yet another unexpected guest was announced. ‘‘ Pardon this late visit,” said Charley Byce, advancing rather excitedly, “but I could not help coming to tell you the news that arrived at Wroxton just before I left. There has been a sad accident to Major Vere; Rick Pontifex’s cousin, you know ; and in short, poor man, he is actually dead.” “You don’t say so!” said Mr. Seaton, shocked. ‘‘ Why, this is truly terrible.” “Terrible,” said Charley, trying to look concerned. ‘‘ But,” he added, breaking forth into an irrepressible smile, ‘‘ you did not know him, I believe ; no more did I; and sorry for him though one is, one cannot help being glad that only old Lord Champion’s life stands now between Pontifex and the barony. Don’t say you cannot feel it so, if only as a favour to me. After that confounded joke last night, and bringing you bad news, however unconsciously, to-day I must seem to you like a bird of ill-omen, and I did so want to surprise you at last with something pleasant.” Mr. Seaton glared at him a moment, then put out his hand. ‘You are a very foolish boy,” he said, ‘‘and very wrong to think the tragic death of any man could be pleasant news to me; but I believe you are straightforward and I think good-hearted. Go now, for I want solitude sorely ; but you will be welcome to the Keep whenever you care to come.” And then Mr. Seaton’s solitary dinner came and went, and the long winter’s evening passed away in thought—in thought that made an epoch in his life; thought that led him to the bar of the past and sternly pronounced him guilty ; thought that showed him | | : \ 6 ee oe Oe a CORNICLOOKS (@) (E(0)