At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 120: what you’re looking at

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

AT A GIRL’S MERCY. 109 But Nan, sitting in the shadow of the elms, did not know of what he was thinking as he walked on in the pale moonlight, and felt her heart warm toward him more than it had at any other time in her life. It was so good tohave sympathy. Her father had failed her, but here was a would-be lover at hand to do her lightest bidding gladly. There was the rumble of wheels and the muffled sound of hoofs along the dusty road, and Nan sprang up breathless to watch for its coming. It was their carriage, she knew, for Carlo, recognizing the sound, arose with her, and set his tail wagging as only the home carriage would admit. As it turned in at the gate. the girl called, and the driver drew in the horses with quick willingness. There was no head at the window, and Nan knew if her father had been there he would have ended her suspense at once, and the disappointment in her face melted the heart of the coachman. Removing the reins from one hand to the other, he unbuttoned his coat, and drew from an inner pocket one of those terrifying yellow envelopes, and handed it down to her with a gruff but kindly word to the effect that he hoped there was no ill news in it, while the girl tore it open with trembling hands. ‘“T waited fer ther eight o’clock train, Miss Nan,” the man said. ‘An’ thin ther letter kem, an’ I driv right home ter let ye know.”’ : She nodded. “You can drive on, Jim,” she said. “I will walk up.’ ; “No bad news, I hope, Miss Nan?’ touching his hat respectfully as he drew the reins together over. the backs of the horses and they started up the drive. | comicbooks:.com |