Guy Earlscourt's Wife — page 191: what you’re looking at

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

_— eee ee — ~ 8 ar ~— 182 At Brighton. Mr. Earliscourt, won’t you say ‘how do you do’ to Polly Mason ?”’ Guy Earlscourt was no stoic. He bent above the little hand, and murmured his thanks, at her gracious remem- brance, “J had searcely hoped for so great an honor,” he said, “among the hundreds of new friends, of adorers, who sur- round the belle of Brighton. You must pardon my not com- ing forward sooner, and claiming recognition—it was my very great modesty, I assure you.” “The first time I ever heard you credited with the virtue,” laughed Paulina, taking his arm. She was at her brightest now: she had had what she so dearly loved—her own way. “()r any other virtue, I fear. Doesn’t Mrs. Galbraith do her duty, and tell you what a monster I am?’ “Strs. Galbraith does her duty, and tells me what a mon- ster you are. But I have a great deal of courage—thanks to my early training; and ?’m not afraid of monsters. Mr. Earlscourt, I have been wanting to see you very much, to speek to you upon a subject, the one trouble of my life, avd [ ean’t here, among this crowd. Will you take me some- where where we ean talk undisturbed ?” fer perfect innocence, and the nearness of the subject to her heart gave her courage, verging upon boldness, perhaps. But she did not mean to be bold, and she went with him out on the baleony—deserted by all save themselves. “You know what I want to talk to you about, I suppose, Mr. Earlseourt?” she began, impulsively. “Where is Alice Warren ?” The blue, earnest eyes were curiously watching him. Was he guilty? No, guilt never looked back at her as he looked. “T wish I knew, MisseLisle. I don’t, I assure you. JI am afraid our poor little friend has come to grief.” “Mr. Earlscourt, you know that some people say her face drooped a little, “that she fled with you.” “7 know it. It is not true. We were up to town together —that was the first I knew of her flight, and she asked me to see her safe to her destination. It was night, and she was asraid—alone in London.” ; “And you did?” breathlessly. “T did. I went with her to the place, a lodging in ‘Tot- tenham Court Road, and left her in charge of the landlady. Tint was nine weeks ago.” “And you have never seen her since.” “Yes, once; nearly a tortnight ago. Upon my return from vtermany | went to the place a second time. She was still therc—outy the pallid shadow of the blooming Alice yot ; >; Say, k SI! pe CO thi ® hat ‘ ‘ mu mec ma Bro the Ly )] and kne pP *( bad pro! You ae | my 66] —V{ And and Hy blue tears “o'} do I) other se] alwa: coyV shoul of ex quite A | on ¥,' Vane comicbooks.com