Alfred de Rosann by G.W.M. Reynolds — page 218: what you’re looking at

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

Alfred de Rosana. 187 Mr. Markham, this morning, and he assured me that his patient was already much better.” | ‘It is fortunate that thirty hours—or thereabout—can have worked such an improvement, being a tolerably convincing proof of the insignificance of the wound.” ‘6 "T'was nothing but a mere scratch, Miss Robson,” remarked our hero, sitting uneasily on his chair; for be had called to make a certain explanation, which perhaps the reader may recollect he waa resolved to do—and not to chatter on indifferent matters. He knew that the peace of mind of a young and pretty girl was at stake ; and he hastened to acquit himself of a duty he owed her, her family, and himself. Disagreeable as was the task, it must nevertheless be performed—and with as little delay as possible, Selina herself furnished the opportunity. ‘¢ And have you no relatives—no friends, M. De Rosann, whom your death might bave plunged into the deepest affliction?” en- quired Selina with a shudder, as she contemplated the past possi- bility of such a lamentable event. ‘¢ There is one in the world,” answered Alfred, a sigh escaping from his breast, ‘“ whose existence is so nearly coupled with mine, that my health and happiness are conditions of her own—that my tears would cause her’s to flow in abundance, and my smiles animate even her countenance with radiant Jey This being,” con- tinued our hero, not daring to look towards Selina, ‘is engaged to me by the most solemn and unchangeable vows; her heart is devotedly attached to him whose soul is entirely wrapped up in her. She is an angel of beauty, of chastity, and innocence--a maiden whose pure mind, like your’s, Miss Robson, is unacquainted with guile—” A convulsive sob interrupted this fervent but well-merited pane- gyric of the charms and the character of Eloise: De Rosann sprung hastily from his chair, and cursed his rashness in thug pre- eipitately entering upon so tender a subject. Selina was white ag marble—despair was depicted upon her countenance—not even the gigantic efforts of feminine modesty, reserve, and pride could con- ceal the violence of her emotions—her bosom heaved convulsively— tears ran down her pale cheeks—her whole frame was suddenly paralysed with a sorrow—with a blow that made her motionless, At length she exerted all her force, recalled the small remnants of her broken courage, and hastily left the raom. De Rosann did not offer to detain her: he stcod petrified by the chair she had just left, uncertain how to act, undecided what course to pursue. For five minutes did he thus remain in an attitude of pensiveness and thought, without having resolved upon taking any step to divest himself of the embarrassment of an unpleasant situation. In the midst of his reflections, the door of the apartment opened gently; and Selina again entered the room. Her face had lost nothing of its pallor—a deep melancholy had taken the place of the despairing expression it ere now had worn—and a forced, an unnatural tranquillity—a terrible calmness which made our hero _ shudder—betrayed the violence she was obliged to do her acutest COnicbooolks (GO)