The Argosy — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

68 Under the Linden Tree. his young wife had lived only a twelvemonth, and very wealthy, had just returned to Europe. ‘“ He is coming to look after you, no doubt, Mary,” said Mr: Falconer, with a laugh. She shook her head sadly, thinking of the past. ‘‘Were I not your wife, Guy, were I free as air, he might come fifty times and fifty to that and find that he had to go away again without me. Were there no other man in the world, I could not marry /zm.” Mr. Falconer had guessed rightly. Edward Sefton, knowing nothing of Mary’s marriage, had come to seek her. His fickle heart had returned to its early allegiance. Kemembering how deep and true had been her love for him, he pictured her as pining still in secret for himself and for what had been. It was at a ball in London that he met her: for he had halted there for a week or two before travelling down to his early home. He was standing near the entrance door talking with an acquaint- ance, when his attention was suddenly arrested by the sight of a lady, beautifully attired in white silk and leaning on the arm of a tall, handsome man. ‘‘Why that—that’s Miss Drummond!” he broke off. ‘Surely 1 cannot be mistaken !” ‘‘ Where ?” cried his friend, looking about. “There. On that gentleman’s arm. They are speaking now to our hostess.” ‘That! Oh, that is Mrs. Falconer. Very lovely, is she not? Yes, she was a Miss Drummond. ‘That’s her husband.” _ Mr. Sefton did not speak for some time. ‘‘ Have they been married long ?” he said then. ‘Two or three months.” Later in the evening he found it possible to speak to her, She was in the music-room with some ladies. She received him with cool courtesy. He so far forgot himself, he was so mentally bewildered at the unexpected turn events had taken, as to breathe a few words of bitter regret for the past, of what he had come home for and the hopes he had been cherishing, She smiled quietly, betraying no emotion whatever—no apparent remembrance. ‘Surely, Mary,” he rejoined in his agitation; “I beg your pardon, Mrs, Falconer; surely you have not quite forgotten the past ? or our parting under the linden tree?” “When you vowed to be true for ever and a day,” she said lightly. ‘‘I doubted it then, if you remember; such vows are often written on the sand.” “But, Mrs. Falconer, you were about to sing to us,” spoke up one of the ladies waiting around. ‘‘ Will you not do so?” For answer she moved at once to the piano, took off her gloves and sat down. ‘‘I will sing you a foolish little song that I have not sung for years,” she said. Mr. Sefton, angry yet fascinated, stood Eomichbooks.co