Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 3 — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

| by” Stephen Chalmers Author of “The Bronze Helmet,” etc. CHAPTER X. I DRAW MY SWORD! ~* | Mistress Eveleigh’s uncle as he sat in the summer-house awaiting his fair niece. | It was natural that I should at once re- mark some familiar resemislance between him and Mistress Joyce, such as that proud poise of the head. I even fancied a com- | HAD now a better opportunity to study mon likeness in his features and the color- ing of his eyes. But I placed family re- semblance more in his manner and refined speech than anything wholly physical. As I sat in the tree watching him I real- ized that if Richard Eveleigh were only shaven and freshly ‘attired he would pre- sent quite a handsome figure of a man. But no doubt in a household composed of two women and one old serving-man, he was unable to repair his attire to its cus- tomary nicety. Unfortunate cavalier as I judged him to be, he was yet lucky above all men to be housed under the same roof with Mistress Joyce, to breathe the same air, to converse with her, and, above all, to be able to com-. mand her presence as he wished it. His good fortune was further manifest when presently J saw my lady come from the manor and approach the bower. ia, In the June sunlight which fell about her graceful figure and played in her golden hair I thought her even more beautiful This story began in The Argogy for July 10. than she had seemed to me in her two pre- _ vious appearances to my eyes, She came toward the summer-house slowly, her fin- gers twined before her, her head slightly bowed, and her eyes drooped to the ground. She was modest grace moving in that old- world garden. As she appeared before the bower she curtsied to her uncle. He at once sprang to his feet and, bowing gallantly, kissed the fmgers which he disengaged frem their twining. She did not smile, but received the tribute without either indifference or pleasure. “You did summon me?”’ she said, with- out lifting her eyes. ‘Pray be seated,” said her uncle. It seemed to be his favorite invitation on all occasions. Joyce sank upon the rustic bench.’ Her Uncle Richard, sitting down beside her, drew one of her hands into his own lap, and began to talk with her in a quiet but eager voice. | I could not hear what was said, nor what Mistress Joyce replied, if, indeed, she said anything at all. But his manner was en- gaging, flattering, persuasive. I thought to myself that, had not Joyce been his niece, his personal charm would have been dan- gerous to feminine susceptibility. _ Joyce, however, may have been used to her uncle’s ways, for she held herself to- ward him with an air of patient humoring, submission, anc perhaps a little tolerance. Of one thing I was sure. She was un- 318 Digitized by Google ' aie Original from (CCOMMIC 1G (0) <SsG@oln THE OHIO STATE UNIVERSITY