At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 150: what you’re looking at

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

AT A GIRI’S MERCY. 139 there had been he would almost certainly have no- ticed it. Wasshe sure she dropped it there? Of course she was sure, and John was a stupid fellow. The paper was gone surelv, and she had no one to ‘-thank for it but herself. Had Howard Blake, standing at the gate in the. garden, known Miss Nan’s sad heart that morning, he might have softened his own heart toward her, and given over in a little his set determination to make sure of her in one way or another. Should she refuse him, or have no kindly word of a better an- swer than refusal, at some future time, he would work his plans as he had laid them for such a need. But he was already put out at not finding her in the garden, and felt no softening toward her as he passed up the walk to the house. Should she be out, he muttered, as he mounted the steps, should she be out, he would either wait her return or go to meet her, for he would not be hindered in any way to- day. He had no patience, and could brook no delay. But she would not be out, for she had been no far- ther than the garden or the gate under the elms, where she sat waiting for her father some two or three nights ago, since her motker’s illness. If she were not in the garden, or on the lawn she would be in the house. He would see her. He would not be put off by any hindrance fate might see fit to lay in his path. He would know that day, that hour if there was any hope of winning Nan Courtland by fair means. If-these failed, he could still fall back upon the darker means he would not hesitate to use. But Nan was in. She was in her mother’s room, and came down, after a short delay, to meet him. There was a sweet gravity about her reception of him that sent a thrill of hope along his blood. But Gomichbooks (eo)