Angelina: Or, The Mystery of St. Mark's Abbey — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERY OF ST. MARK’S ABBEY, 45 inclined “ to get the mulligrubs,” as she expressed herself, by sitting wity, her gloemy cousin, walked forth, thinking to meet her mother as she came from ald Dame Gertrude’s. ; Shortly after this, Mr. Woodfeld retarned home, and he seemed more vexed and disturbed than when he had departed in the morning. To the anxious in- quiries which his niece ventured to pat to him, he replied, that the Baron had quitted the castle, and that he had not been able to ascertain where he was gone, or when it was probable he would return; and that was the only infor. mation she could elicit from him. Angelina was surprised, but pleased, to learn that the Baron had left the neighbourhood, and she hoped it would be a long while ere he would again re- turn to it; she then talked to her father upon indifferent subjects, and eudea- voured to restrain the agitation she was thrown into as much as possible, by the adventare of the afternoon. In this she succeeded much better than might have been expected, and ber wocle either did not, or would not, take any | notice of her emotion. On retiring to bee chamber, she found mach to occupy her thoughts, and taking out the miniature, she again became completely absorbed in the contemplation of the handsome and benevolent features. Yes, there was the same intellectual countenance, the same graceful contour of features: the high, pale forehead, the raven hair, and piercing bright eyes that had so forcibly struck our heroine the very first moment she had beheld the stranger. She could not remove her eyes from it, her frame trembled with agitation, and thoughts she had never before kaown, darted apon her imagina- tion. <‘ Surely,” she ejaculated to herself, “ the being possessed of such a face as this, must be all that is good, noble, and generous. Oh, yes! 1 casnot think he is otherwise! Bat whatamI saying? Why should I encourage a thought of one, who, to me, is a perfect stranger? Of what consequence is it to me, that—Buat did he not save my life? Yes, and gratitude demands that, as my preserver, I should always think of him with kindness and esteem !’’ What was to be done with the miniature? Of course, she could not think of keeping it; but then how was it to be returned? She could not help thinking that he had dropped it purposely, and if she did not take the earliest oppor- tunity to give it him again, he might probably construe it into an encourage- ment of his passion; but then she was at a loss to conceive in what manoer she could get itconveyed to him. Was she not acting wrong, she asked her- self, in not making her uncle acquainted with all that had taken place, so that he might seek an explanation of the young man, and put a stop to his im- portunities, if they became too pressing ? She felt she was, but yet she could not make up her mind to broach the subject to him. She at length came to the determination that she would herself, the next day, walk in the direction ibe stranger had before come, and if she met him, to return the miniature; but she did not come to this resolution without feeling a certain regret, for which she could not account. The following afternoon, Angelina went from the cottage, and took the road before mentioned, but she walked on without meeting the person of whom she wasin search. With a mixture of disappointment and pleasure, she con- tinued her walk, and was so wrapped in meditation that it was not until she JOO Go