The Argosy — page 320: what you’re looking at

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

“ “Giittering Gold.” 299 hood. He knew so little of young ladies that he felt utterly dazed and bewildered by the events of the morning, and as the three walked along the narrow paths leading to the glacier he shrank more and more into silence, abashed before the beauty of the one woman and the lively self-possession of the other. “JT think we ought to exchange confidences in the matter of names,” said the younger girl presently. ‘“‘ You, we know now, are Mr. Etheridge; and we are Olive and Nellie Branscombe, not long ago both of us hard-worked teachers in the school where we had formerly been pupils. Olive taught drawing, while I heard little imps of children strum scales and finger-exercises all day long, and we had nothing in the world but each other. Can you imagine our delight when an old great-aunt, whom we had never seen, took it into her head to die, and leave us what you would most likely call afew paltry thousands each? ‘To us they seemed inexhaustible riches, and we are still quite téte-montée with the wonder of the whole thing.” Her sister’s quiet voice here interrupted the rapid flow of words. “Vou forget, Nellie, all this cannot greatly interest Mr. Etheridge however interesting to ourselves.” “Nonsense, Olive! Don’t I always know by instinct whether people are interested or not? Mr. Iitheridge is intensely interested un what I am saying—are you not?” She turned briskly to him with one of her sudden, bird-like move- ments, but before he could frame a reply she resumed her interrupted story. “Tt had been the dream of both our lives to travel—Olive wanted to see places and I wanted to see people—so as soon as we could shake ourselves free from schoolroom trammels, we packed up our trunks and set off. Even in the midst of a very bad crossing we remembered that we were free women at last and were happy.” Miss Nellie laughed even at the memory of their sea-sickness. “Now you know how we come to be here, Mr. Etheridge, wandering about, two ‘maidens all forlorn,’ and I assure you, you are the very first acquaintance we have made since we arrived in Switzerland.” Robert felt miserably conscious that a polite reply to this con- cluding statement was expected from him, but after a vain and agonised search for the proper words, he at last fell back upon a grave bow as the only answer he could reasonably hope to complete COnniclooolkKs (©) im