At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 107: what you’re looking at

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

96 AT A GIRI’S MERCY. white straw hat back on his head, leaving the broad light to bring into view every feature and charac- teristic of his face. It was not a true face, but in its way it was handsome. There was anevil light in the wavering black eyes and a sinister curve around the thin lips that denoted a brutal nature. but the skin was purely olive, and brought into better effect the eyes and black curling hair and mustache. He was tall and graceful, too, in appearance, as he walked down through the clover, his hands deep in his pockets, buried in these thoughts. He knew there was many a girl who would say yes to him gladly should he care to lay his fortune at her feet. But it was only Nan Courtland he desired, and it was Nan Courtland who would not have ready the ~ yes he should demand. : She was down in the summer-house among her flowers, and he knew full well she would be there when he took the path through the fields. She was always in the garden in the morning. He paused at the edge of the rose hedge, where the tiny wicket shut off the peering clover, and watched her, un- noticed, for a few minutes. She was the picture of dainty womanliness as she sat on the doorstep of the house, the morning paper at her feet—read, and no trace of the dread notice she had feared, as she feared every day in taking up the sheet—the warm colors of the summer flowers setting off to full perfection the loose gown she wore of pale blue dotted with white daisies. A ribbon of the blue was about her round throat, and the ends fluttered among the curls that were tangled by the morning breeze all over her graceful head. There was a half smile on the perfect lips, and a happy light in the downcast eyes, shaded by their comicbooks.col