Lady Evelyn — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

whiny’ 4 see 4 <e Ay eae ME tie © y ene e rs Lats Mit bi 2 AS uit VAS Pa i Let <3\ “e ee fad, '< Ss : 3 : 2 40 force the eae ‘little pin in Clontart to- tarry him, whether she will or no?” She looked up at him with shining eyes and ‘patted fips and glowing face—her grand, impetuous young protec- tor! And never in all her life had Kathleen loved her lordly lover as she did in that hour. , “Gad!” Rory cried, swelling with indignation the more he thought of it; “marry you to pay your father’s gam- bling debts, indeed! Confound his impertinence! Con- found all their impertinences! Do they think themselves _Bashaws of Three Tails, and you a little Georgian, up for sale? I'll go to the cottage this very evening and see that besotted father of yours, and after that I’ll go to Morgan; and if he won't hear to reason, [ll break his ~ head!’ He looked quite capable of doing it, or any other reck- less Quixotism, this fair- haired, flashing eyed, hare- brained young descendant of fiery Irish kings, as he stood there in the twilight, drawn up to his superb six-foot height. And Kathleen, glowing and uplifted, raised one of his hands and kissed it. “Dear Lord Roderick, no! Ah! how good you are, _ how noble, how generous! I will never forget it as long asl live. But it is all in vain. Morgan is like Shylock; he will have his bond, his pound of flesh—nothing less nor more. My father’s ruin, or—my father’s daughter, ‘There is no choice between.” “The black-hearted—— “Lord Rory, hush! Let me speak. For you to use violence or threats to Morgan would only make a bad matter much worse; for you to plead to him is an utter impossibility ; and neither would move him in the least— _he is harder than iron, that man. My father is completely ; We his power. I alone can save him, and—lI will?” The little slender figure drew up to its full height, the ey Bocry eyes flashed, the wan cheeks glowed like June roses. _ He was her inspiration. Her blood was up, and she was ready for anything now. _ just to Morgan. My father’s folly is no blame to him. ‘ dle anne to ee me;’’ her head dt Orne and her voice “But, Kathleen,” Rory cried, aghast, “you hate this » devil of a Morgan |! Ye ‘Then heaven send me a better spirit. We are all un- “com [Epa <0) _—- .