Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 266: what you’re looking at

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

BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. 261 that the postman knocked ata certain door, not quite within the city noise, but just upon the flowery outer rim, and in due course of time two letters were carried in to the mis- tress of the pretty establishment, whose name, as read on the backs of the letters, which ‘she wonderingly scanned, was: ‘‘Mrs. Ernest Lindhurst.” ‘What can they be,” I ejaculated, glancing across at a gentleman, who was busied in the leading article of the Times. ‘* Both in ladies’ handwriting, and one so strangely alike. Oh, Ernest?’ The opened sheet fell from my hand, the quick blood fled to my heart, and surged there in a flood which al- most burst it. My husband sprang to my side, and put his arm round me, and I leaned against him with closed eyes. Ve Let me wait,” JI murmured. “1 dare not read it yet. You read it Ernest, and tell me.’ He caught up the letter and perused itat arms length. I still leaned against him, but I become calmer; for I was pray- ing; I was saying, over and over again, in my soul: ‘¢Thou God in heaven, prepare me for this joy!” My husband finished the letter and clasped me close. ‘‘ Look up, my darling,” he said, gently; ‘‘there is good news. You must take it bravely, dear, and don’t get ex- cited.” “Tell me—tell me! Isolina—— “¢ Tgolina is free to come home. She is coming, dear; she will soon be with us. Can you listen to what she says?” ‘Wait a while,” I whispered again. And I felt that I could not bear it until 1 wept once more to Heaven for strength. «Ever Merciful Father,” I prayed, ‘‘crush me not with 39 joy and gratitude! Put Thy hand on my eyes, that I may not be blinded with excess of jhappiness! ‘*Now, Ernest, I am calm.” “My BELOVED IvVANILLA—I am now alone in the world, and at liberty to come from my exile. My poor mother died yesterday, after a short illness of three weeks, which finally turned to disease of the heart, and carried her off almost in a moment. ‘‘T have found a small packet addressed to your father; perhaps the contents may be some sort of confession. I know that the guilt on the unhappy soul of the corpse which CORNUCG OOO S (©)