Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 43: what you’re looking at

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

38 BEAU TIFUL RIENZI and I saw affright written there, as plainly as if I had beer a horrible vision from the other world. ‘* Darling, it is only Iva?” I murmured, soothingly. She had a letter in her hand. I now divined the cause o her agitation; she did not wish me to see the letter, yet sh would not wound my feelings by openly concealing it. The brilliant gas-light was shining on the open page—my sister's eyes were jealously watching mine. I hid my face on her arm; my feelings of devotion and fidelity were quiv- ering beneath the shock of her distrust; my cheeks were scarlet, and tingled on her arm. ‘“ Put it away,” I whispered; ‘I wish to know nothing! but I have seen a name.” : She folded up the letter, steadily regarding me. ‘*What name did you see, Ivanilla?” “Mrs. Victor Joselyn.” | She turned her back to me, and looked out of the dark window again. | “<< Well ” she said, in a strange, unnatural toned ‘would you like to ask anything about her?” — J don’t want to know anything about her that you are not inclined to tell,” I rejoined, in a trembling voice. ‘‘She is—or rather was—connected with a friend of mineg that is all,” said Isolina, after a pause; ‘‘ but it matters little now who she was—she is dead.” I did not know what to say; I was unaccountably; shocked. ‘Are you satisfied?” asked Isolina, turning an ashy white: face to me again. Her expression was so despairing that T: once more flung my arms round her, and burst into tears. ‘‘ Let me comfort you!” I sobbed; ‘oh, darling, let me!” ‘“< Love me, Ivanilla—there’s no one else to love me!” wag. the only answer. Tsolina roused herself from a trance of grief, and went to: her desk. I saw now that she had been writing; a sealed envelope lay on the stand, which she proceeded to stamp, after which she lifted it irresolutely and looked at me. ‘*T would like this mailed to-night,” she said. in an hum- ble tone, ‘‘and I scarcely like to give it to Nelson myself, as his curiosity might be aroused. You are always sending letters to mamma, and it would be nothing unusual.” ‘Give it to me,” I cried, eagerly. | ‘And you will not—will not-——” COMICOOO S (©)