Bonny Jean, and A Severe Threat — page 189: what you’re looking at

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

182 A SEVERE THREAT The old woman scanned her face attentively through the spectacles, : ‘‘VYes, I wanted to see—oh, Lola, it’s too funny. If you could see your own face. Ha! ha!” | And away went the wig and spectacles, the bent form was straightened, and Dot Wylde stood revealed. ‘To you believe zow,” she cried, ‘‘ that there is any disguise that cannot be readily penetrated? Why, this is one of the very simplest. I tell you, my dear, if you have any particular reason for wishing to disguise yourself I can show you how to do it so that your dearest friend would fail to recognize you. Good gracious !—in a rueful tone—‘‘some one is coming. Who can it be ?” For a man had entered the outer gate, and was coming - slowly up the garden path. _ Dot, not caring to be seen in her grotesque attire, slipped into a rose arbor near, while Lola paused irresolutely under a lime tree which grew beside the walk. The man drew nearer, and the pale, clear moon-rays falling athwart his face, disclosed the saturnine features of Sir John Sydney. He bowed stiffly as his glance fell upon Lola. ‘Mr, Lloyd Vernon is here, is he not?” queried the bar- onet. ‘‘I must see him at once. His sister, Lady Sydney, is ill, perhaps dying.” Lola stepped from the shadow of the lime-tree and turned her solemn eyes upon his face. She was all in white, and in the radiant moonbeams looked unearthly. Sir John’s face grew pallid, and he shrank away, putting both his arms out, as though to drive her back. ‘‘Mercy!” he groaned, feebly, ‘‘it is she—S%e//a—come back from the grave to haunt me.” | At that momenta dark figure rushed forward from the shadow of the cottage, there was the fearful report of fire-arms, and a wild shriek rent the air; then all was still. Gomichooks (e(e) =)