Guy Earlscourt's Wife — page 223: what you’re looking at

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

1 men id no from p my ceding miser- ange would ige of ible a awn 2 ls out- othing all she what a eft St. a cab; torpor, in her ompas- 1g sick ke that nfess,” . back, he was nk was t. She yond a yecomes he was Paulina, d shiv- ing the ddenty pntalien On Christmas Eve. 211 She had never thought to see him again in this world. She looked up with a low, stranve evry, | “Frank!” “Yes, Alice, Frank!—Frank con. to beg your pardon for the crve!, thoughtless words he spoke the other night. Frank come back to tell you he loves you, and to ask vou to forgive him for what he said.” | “There is no need. I am not your wife,” she answered, in a slow, dull way. “I had rather you had not come. I only want to see Paulina, and die in peace.” “You want to see Paulina? And why 2” “To tell her all—to save her from you, Frank! Poor Polly! She used to be so bright, so happy, you know, alwivs laughing and singing; it weuld be a pity to break her hear Mine is broken; but then, it doesn’t so much matter about. me.” She drew a lone, tired sigh, and leaned her head on her hands. Then suddenly she looked up in his face. “Frank!” she said, in a voice of indeseribable pathos, “why did you treat me so? I loved you, and I trusted you, and [ thought I was your wife!” It might have moved a heart of stone: he had no heart, even of stone, to be moved. “You foolish child,” he said, with a slight laugh, “vou are my wife—my only wife, as truly as ever you thought it. Do you really believe the angry words I said to you the other night? Silly Alice! I was angry, I own—TI did not want you to come to my lodgings, and I spoke te you in my anger, as I had no right to speak. You are my wife, and I myself will take you to Miss Lisle, if you wish it.” She rose up, her breath coming in quick, short gasps. “Frank! you wrll! Oh! for Heaven’s sake, don’t deceive me now! I ecouldn’t bear 1t!” | & “T am not decetving you—I am telling you the truth. You are my wife, and you shall leave this miserable hovel, and at. once. Early to-morrow morning I will come for you, and [ will take vou first to Paulina, and from her straight down to Montalien. Your Christmas shall be a happy one yet, Alice.” She took a step forward, staggered into his arms, and lay there, so still, so cold, that he thought her fainting. Ile shrank, too, from her clasp with a shudder, and placed her hurriedly back in her chatr. “Compose yourself, Alice!” he said, looking away from her. “Can you be ready as early as eight o’clock, or even before it, to-morrow morning?” “Whenever you come for me, Frank, 1 can be ready. Oh. ee comicbooks.com