Beautiful Rienzi; or, The Secret Vendetta — page 43: what you’re looking at

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

36 BEAUTIFUL RIENZI, The first glance in Lillia Meredith’s face assured me that she could never rival mv peerless sister either in mind or at- tractions. I no longer blamed the inconstant lover. ‘Tyanilla, this is your expected visitor, Miss Meredith,” said my sister. turning to me. Miss Meredith's eves had been full of tears, in tribute to something Isolina had been saying, but now she sprang up and came to me, wiping them away with a sprightly ‘ui’. ‘< Dear me, everything's hazy before me, I've been crying so. Now I can see you plainer, and what a romantic style vou have! The nine muses look out of your eves, Miss Ivanilla—oh! what would I not give to havea sister ora confidante like vou! You are just exactly like his des- cription!—oh, dear! Isolina has been telling me the most horrible tales of my poor wicked Cecil! Sha’n’t we tell her all about it, Isolina?” Isolina having gravely consented, Lillia, without permit- ting me to remoye my wrappings, began instantly to confide. ‘“ You see I nursed Cecil when he was a sick prisoner— my father was governor of the prison, von know—and I erew to adore him, though he was a Southern officer, and just as prond and fierce as they generally are: and for my sake, when he was liberated he settled himself in Washing- ton and became an author; and though papa is very wealthy, he never said anything against my Cecil, just because he suw that my heart was set on having him. I amso glad I am papa’s only child and can do as flike. But, oh! isn’t it dreadful to think of—le has been cool to me these months ast, and Isolina tells me that she is the lady for whom he 1as forsaken me. Poor Isolina! and wretched, wicked Cecil, to torture her when she does not like him. No wonder she is so distressed about it. | ‘‘ lle has been in New York here, dangling after Isolina who does not want him, and writing me the most horrible notes, half a dozen lines in length, but enough to put me in fits. Listen to this one, which came three days ago: ‘**- You shall ever be the sweet prison flower of my memory, which wooed ine back to life--bnt no, no! You shallnever wither in my chill keeping ; I give yon back yonr gentle love, my child of sunshine, and put the bridge of silence between us forevermore. Fate--remorseless terrible - urges me on to try the fatal chance once more, which gives me life or death, 65a Rh cEomicbooks:co