Ballou's Monthly Magazine, Vol. XXVII, No. 1 — page 35: what you’re looking at

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

The Lady of Lindenwold. 39 taught, learned himself, of heaven from one who had already tasted of its joys. And then he loved the sweet face at the window, with its shifting lights and shades, its flushing and paling, its tenderness and its pain, drifting like ripples across the surface of some pure, woodland lake. He loved to watch the pretty, changeful face and busy fingers, that were always stitching, and think how much better and purer aman might be who had such a sweet face and true, earnest spirit always in his home. But some strange glamor was upon him while with Miss Livingston—a subtle some- thing which he could not, or at least did not, resist, drew him towards her. And that day, as she sat beside him in her splendid carriage, her inagnificent beauty enhanced by the yichness and elegance of her attire, he forgot, while looking into her glowing face, all lofty thought, all noble work, all pure aspiration— forgot in short everything but the passionate, bewitching face of the woman beside him. CHAPTER LX. OLIVE LIVINGSTON had had too much ex- perience with the world not to understand the symptoms which Mr. Russel exhibited. But while it gratified her vanity, it awoke no answering sentiment in herown bosom. The only love that was worth anything to her— the only eyes which she cared to have look their passion into hers—worshipped at another shrine. What was all her wealth, and position, and beauty worth, so long as this Mordecai failed to bow down before it. And like another Haman she began the con- struction of a gallows for the accomplishment of her desires. Quite unexpectedly she found a workman to her hand—one who had served a long apprenticeship with his master and was very ready at his work. It happened in this wise. One evening after she had sat at her window and watched, with burning eyes, the figures ofa youth and maiden, sitting in an unmis- takably lover-like attitude under the little vine-covered porch of the Wallace cottage, she was measurably relieved, by the an- nouncement of Asa, that a man was at the door who wanted to speak with the mistress. “ Bring him in here!” she said, sharply. “Into the drawing-room, miss ?” “Certainly. What is there remarkable about that ?” “ Nothin’, as I know of, only the man!” “What of him ?” “We’s rather a hard-looking chap. I shouldn’t want to meet him in an out of the way place. He looks ‘ villain, whether he is or not.” “TY am not afraid of Satan himself, to-night! Bring him in.” Nothwithstanding her assertion, a sudden shiver ran over her when the man, who came in with a stealthy, cat-like tread, lifted a pair of bleared, blood-shot, deep-set gray eyes to her face with a curious, continued gaze. He was a large, muscular man, though evidently worn by dissipation. He was coarsely dressed, and his unkempt hair of heavy iron gray fell low over his dark, lowering brow. Tale him all in all he was not exactly the man for a lady’s boudoir, but he sat down, however, with an air of quiet assurance that annoyed Miss Livingston exceedingly, and she men- tally resolved to get rid of him as speedily as possible. “What is your business with me, sir?” she demanded, haughtily, stepping back as he approached. “T am in want of some money.” “A beggar!” she ejaculated, contemptuously. “ Not exactly, my proud lady. You are the owner of Lindenwold ?” “T am, sir. Did you come here to ask that? Any countryman could have told you thus much.” “ Every countryman doesn’t know quite as much about it as you and I,” he replied, with a leer. “Did you come here to insult me?” she cried, with flashing eyes. “On the contrary, I came here to make a bargain with you.” “ What, sir?” “A bargain, ma’am; which, if I mistake not, will be-for your interest full as much as mine.” “You are drunk!” she exclaimed, turning to the bell rope. He put out his hand—his black, grimmy hand—and actually laid it on her white, dainty shoulder. She faced sud- denly round, trembling with passion at the indignity. ‘“ How dare you!” she demanded, her eyes flaming. “By heavens! miss, you'd make your for- tune on the stage. If anything happens, you can try it, you know.” Her first thought was, “this is some miser- able trick of Geoffry’s to extort more money from me,” and she smiled tarberself to. think.