Lady Evelyn — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

18 ae Gerald Desmond. leen. It’s woman’s destiny, the end and aim of her whole life—marriage.” , ‘T shall never marry!’’ her voice choked as she said it, and she turned away. “I will go to my grave what I am to-night.” | “My dear little gushing Kathleen!’ Gerald Desmond absolutely laughed a little, so amused was he. “ ‘I'll-live and die a maid,’ as the old songs say, for Rory’s sweet sake. Don’t doit, Kathleen. Go up to Clontarf and for- bid the bans.” “What do you mean?” “Why, this, little one: the donna is as proud as the deuce—all these high and mighty Spanish beauties are— and as jealous as the devil. Go up to the castle, insist oa. an interview, tell her Rory is yours, not hers, that your claim to him is beyond dispute. So it is, you know; he has been courting you ever since he was three feet high. Tell her he loves you still, and is only after her doubloons. By Jove! Kathleen, she'll drop him like a hot potato.” “Mr. Gerald!” The amazement, the indignation, the superb haiteur with which Kathleen regarded him is utterly beyond de- scription. She stood drawn up to her full height, her eyes ablaze in the silvery light. “Yes, mignonne.’’ How dare you say such things to me!’’—she stamped her foot, and her little brown fist clenched—‘‘how dare you insult me by such suggestions! Come between him and the girl of his heart, when I would die at his feet to make him happy! Go to that noble lady and belie him, ' the noblest, the bravest, the truest—” Her voice broke down; poor Kathleen was no orator. She covered her face with her hands, and burst into a very passion of tears. Gerald Desmond shrugged his shoulders, took out a cigar, struck a fusee, and lit it. “They are all alike,” he murmured—“peasant and prin- cess. They will go in for hysterics in spite of you. Well, _ Kathleen, don’t cry; please yourself, you know. I’ve only been talking to you for your good. ’Fore George! he must be the darling of the gods, this Roderick Desmond, since you all lose your heads for him; and he can ult, you