Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. — —— — ICANT | Kl — =a fi ‘<_—— —————— i i no 1h ipie a wa | i | sty a eet i i ‘ i> ni Sees 1} i] Mp We a y l) Wear ee ‘ ar\\e ape if } \ i} | wml hi | Hh ‘a rESEITIEL STU itn mh ‘ , ny 93k ae AAA AN SA A os RT Wi | Wh} a —— / — wh ‘ LE Tiawer so Wi i Hay | 1 = § VET VETTE Nt abbailfl ed meeiill ail HH Ha <7 | oye TTT “A H dud ‘i Wi A Hl} HO) ie s 1 Hi i} ‘ SS ‘ A BESSON H),''k “AN \ 1 /, _— ——— ry sy tf rt ii ers hy Wi aT ial tt MA aati a al i hicaee tt; WTA OLR AAU) UU at hy ill upujiuatt Ten i EY VAAOAY STIS hs AA LHL iil itp ¥t oo ad TLE PEL PET yy yu naa | | | i i | i Ln fi ih 1 | Hh i iW I Au ih Wa) . ] ai \ d save ' 4 \\\ a MAS $\ Witt I saw the absolute necessity of rousing her by some means—I scarcely knew how—scarcely even cared indeed, for she was driving me to perfect desperation. So I exclaimed, as if in an excited manner, “ Run, Beda—run, and fetch a physician! —two physicians, if necessary! We will have a consultation! My poor friend Miss Glentworth is very ill.” * Leave me—leave me, Ellen,” she now said, speaking petulantly and impatiently, but likewise with another scornful smile as if to give me to un- derstand that she knew I was not serious in send- ing for the medical practitioners, and that the stratagem was too flimsy to deceive her. “ Leave me, dear Ellen,’ she repeated: “I wish to be alone.” She now rose up from the ottoman—but it was only to stand like a statue before me. Yes— there she stood, like a marble statue—pale as one| felt convinced that her mind bad received a shock — I made a! and that some great calamity had befallen her. —the very effigy of despair itself! No. 67.—ELLEN PExcyY. it OS aR , Ly \\\ y Je ‘ ‘ fi . er, ‘ A) ‘ i) A bis ’ ) ~ aN Ns Ag / | I ne ww | ve N I /; N49 * 9 WAY) Te "7 , ih ! sign for Beda to retire: I hastened to secure the door bebind her; and then throwing my arms about Mary Glentworth’s neck, I exclaimed, “ Oh, deal not with me so reservedly, my friend! Tell me the cause of your affliction! If it be aught whereof in the presence of any other you would be ashamed—yet with me, dearest Mary—with me who love youso well, and whom you ought to treat like a sister—there need be no secrets !” Still Mary Glentworth gazed upon me in the same vacant manner as before; and resuming her seat she began playing with her kercbief as if the state of her mind were now bordering upon idiocy. I almost wrung my hands in despair at the appa- rent impossibility of extracting a syllable from her lips. 1 looked at her with the most earnest atten- tion—I contemplated her with the closest scru- tiny: I did not think she was going mad—but I ——— ee Gomiuichdoo (EO)