At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 222: what you’re looking at

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

AT A GIRL’S MERCY. 211 kissed the quivering red lips and smiled into the face that had been brave through so much suffering. “My poor little sweetheart !”’ She steadied her voice and heart as she laid her hands on his arms, smiling a dawning smile of new life and hope, being so sure now that it were in truth no dream, but the sweetest reality that could come to her. The warm color was once more in the smooth cheek as he touched so tenderly the tumbled yellow curls on the sunny head, the brown eyes upon hers. “But I thought you were dead, Ned,’ she said, and there was still a tremble in the low, sweet voice. “They said you were dead, and I have been——”’ He stopped any words she would have uttered. A wonder came upon his own face. No wonder the sweet face had grown so pale at his presence. No wonder the sweet eyes could not comprehend. ‘Poor little sweetheart!’’? he said again, and the low voice was very tender. ‘‘I never knew you had such a thought, Nan. I learned from the squire that there had been such a rumor in the papers, but I thought you knew long ago that it was untrue. I was not even wounded in that scrimmage, Nannie, and if | had known——”’’ But what did she care so long as it was not true —so long as this tried friend of her life was with her again? “Tell me about papa, Ned,’’ she said, softly. ‘‘It is SO oon to have you here again. I feel brave al- ready.”’ “As though you were not always,” he said, ten- derly. ‘‘Did I not tell you that morning after the terrible night you proved your brave spirit—did I not tell you it would take a short change to make you a general, Nan? You have proved——”’ She interrupted him swiftly, a shudder of fear and horror upon her. “Did you know he—that burglar—is to be shot to- morrow at dawn in the camp down there, Ned? I came from him when you sent for me. It is so dread- ful, Ned—so dreadful !”’ . “It is what he deserves, Nan,”’ he said, sternly, silencing further words of hers. ‘‘He is the worst (€(0) =) iGchbooks.co =|