Lady Evelyn — page 221: what you’re looking at

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

ey ae iy af ; ui b f - . Ae ta ‘Se r . . a . i" Nhat! a," 1 4 a! % F) aA > >) wit "5 Abel” ieee 2 afl are i‘ ph lay he Sir ; my re hehe Ot WN Ay a2 . Hn fy ‘ .*. v t . ~ are ; : aan Yi aS =) es AD Lae a mos a : <r’, 0% ~~ > ! Baa ‘ m chiet Gnctied < over iy hs Since aay cad hee dee face 3m _ strikingly picturesque from its flowing drapery. “Look,” she said, touching her lover’s arm; “do you _ remember that face sk ) “The gypsy, by Jove! who told us our fortune a year ago. How handsome and stately she is! Looks like an Indian princess, or a picture by Velasquez or Van—what’s his name? Didn't come true—did they—her predic- Pe Hots f _ “T have forgotten what they were,” Lady Evelyn said, carelessly. “Have you ever had your horoscope cast, — Colonel Drummond? If not, now is the time. You will _ ‘never find a fairer seeress.’ “My fortune was told twenty years ago,” the Ameri- can officer said, with his grave smile; “the future I think 1 can predict for myself. Your dusky sybil might easily tempt a more hopeful man. See that strange figure spéaking to her now.” : _ A wretched-looking vagrant, leaning on a stick, his face shaded by a battered hat, had hobbled up and ad- - dressed her. She turned from him and looked up at the _ grand-stand with dark, earnest eyes, as though he had spoken of them. The eyes of the vagrant turned, too, in _ that direction—red, fiery eyes, full of fierce hate now, as they fixed on the face of the Earl of Clontarf. “Ay, there he stands, the cowardly murderer, the per- jured traitor, high in honor among the great, titled, and wealthy, looking down on honest men like dogs. I won- der if he thinks—the mighty Earl of Clontarf—as another of his order once said: ‘All men are equal on the turf, ~ and—under it?’ There he stands, and one-and-twenty years almost have passed since Kathleen O’Neal and Roderick Desmond found the seas their winding-sheets, and still he lives and prospers. And they say there is an ea pene Heaven after that.” : _ He hobbled away with a last baleful glance of hate. ng ae never looked at the others—he plunged away among : the crowd, soliciting alms with the true professional whine mo orthe beggar tribe. ; As the ladies and gentlemen swept down from the a _. grand- -stand through the field, the handsome gypsy canes i oO D spadenly , BE to hem ane confronted pate: comic rue - = hel at}