Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

20 BEAUTIFUL RIENZI, looked with an intent gaze toward the window, as if ap- palled. ‘It is terrible!” she murmured. ‘But P’ve—I think I will go to my own room for a while; don’t wait for me—I will join you at dinner. Sophie, dress Miss Ivanilla’s hair.” «« My darling, are you ill?” I cried. “No,” she turned her troubled face away; “I don’t feel very well, that is true, but I shall be all right in an hour, it I am not disturbed.” “We shall not disturb you. Sophie, come into my room and dress me there; my sister is going to sleep.” The girl gathered up my dress and toilet requisites; we shut the dressing-room door behind us, and adjourned to my pretty bedroom, where our noise would not be heard. My heart was chill and heavy; I felt shut out and held aloof, though my own hand had done it. “Shall T do your hair now, miss?” ‘Wait, we have an hour yet, and I can dress in ten min- utes. Don’t molest me.’ The girl lingered about, waiting my mood; she took her sewing, and stirred up the fire. ‘Shall I light the gas now, Miss Ivanilla?” I had remonstrated with Isolina for standing at the win- dow looking at the storm, but I was there myself, and weep- ing bitterly. ““Goaway, Sophie!” I cried, sharply. ‘‘I told you not to molest me. I will ring if I want you.” I heard her go away, and the coal-fire burned drowsily, until the room was dark. My brow was on the window- pane, my eyes drearily fixed on the strip of garden beneath; the lamps on either side of the gate flickered like lanterns ina storm. I saw a woman gliding down between the black shrubs to the gate; the hail and the hurricane were beating her garments about; she battled resolutely against the blind- ing rain, but her figure was too slender and delicate for such rude warfare; she was caught up and whirled against the great stone parapet, and she held on there with her two clinging arms until there was a lull, while the storm-king regained his breath, then she opened the gate and drifted before the tempest down the street. And this woman, out in the storm, defenseless in the COMICOOO S (©)