Lady Evelyn — page 197: what you’re looking at

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

eae teat Pit Fiat Ais Walp pa ay ang Me a <7 pt aie ie ci pt Rai ae aie reuse Hye? Me Bea eh . ae 190. The te Service o of the Red C Queen. hes ka os brightly smiling face, and the schshine making an ele ; around that oraceful head. At the earliest possible hour on the ensuing day, Col- onel Drummond presented himself at the little cottage. He had been at the theater the previous night with Trevannance, and a gay party of his friends, and “La Reine Rouge’ had heen at her brightest and most en- chanting, and been showered with bouquets as usual, and led out after the play, smiling and kissing hands to her enthusiastic audience. The sight had given him unutter- able pain. She was his child, and the thought of what she might have been, had sent a sharper pain to his proud heart than ever the loss of his own hereditary honors had done. There was an unusual bustle around the tiny house. The front door stood wide open, and a woman with a red handkerchief over her head was washing windows. A little girl, armed with a broom, answered the officer’s knock. “Mam’selle Minnette?” she repeated after him. “Law, sir, she’s gone!” “Gone! Gone where?” “Left St. Louis, sir—left this morning. What’s your oF name, please? She left a note.” “My name is Drummond—Robert Drummond.” “AM! right, sir,” cried the girl, briskly. “The note’s for you, sir. Wait a minute, and I’ll fetch it. Mother and me, we're a-cleanin’ up.’ She darted away; and was back immediately, with a little oblong note in her grimy finger and thumb. Colonel Robert Drummond,” she read from the en- velope.. “Wall you step in while you read it?” - “Thanks—no! I will read it here.” The girl left him and resumed her work. He leaned lightly against the door-post, and opened the letter. It was very brief and cold. — “CoLronEL DrumMMoND—I write what I cannot trust myself to say—tarewell! I may have been mistaken in the past of my estimate of you, but none the less do I » . are better apart. 2 TEs Let us foe. feel bound by my promise over my dead mother. We B We owe each other ethos, love nor om sha os oe os atin ah 2 SNA Re is Ap