Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. 157 matter how fair the scenery was in the direction of Shirley Sands or the Cat’s Head hills, I always shaped my course round the village road in time to meet the evening train from New York. I watched every arrival with jealous eyes, and became as regular a visitor to the Ranelagh Station as the urchins who loafed under the butternut tree at the corner, with a per- sistence which seemed half insane. | Sometimes I was ashamed of this habit, when strangers stared curiously at me, but notwithstanding this, and owing to some inward promptings, I never broke my tryst with the evening train. One evening, to my unutterable confusion, my eager watching was rewarded by seeing my lover alight from the car. The urchins all grouped and gazed congratulatingly at-me, when the handsome gentleman handed his valise to Nelson, to ride home with, and walked slowly by my side, his hand on my saddle- bow. It was very gratifying to have all the youths in Ranelagh rejoice that my long waiting was at last ‘successful, Mr. Lindhurst had come down to spend a day with us, having left his business with his clever young clerk “‘ to take a trip to Eden,” as he flatteringly declared. «But Ido not find my little Iva looking well,” he said, regarding me with far too close a scrutiny for my nervous face to bear unmoved; ‘‘ darling, how weary—how feverish you are! Why, love?” I hid my groundless, womanish fears, for I was ashamed of them; and I told him, gayly, he had brought the medi- cine. So we walked home by the beach, and the moon sailed up to smile blandly upon us, and my imprisoned heart swelled more freely for a space, in the love of the man who was dearest to me. | His visit passed so quickly; the hours fled on winged feet, while ke soothed and comforted us all, and ministered to my sister with the tenderness of a brother; I forgot to tremble with sick fears at every sudden sound, and clung to him with almost childish dependence. Once more the sun sank behind the hills; that mystic hour which oft has marked the dark events of this history; that hour whose approach called me from the most engross- ing employment to the watch. I had been playing to my sister and Ernest on the little CORNUCG OOO S (©)