Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

88 BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. a king; whose captain showed them how to fight, and how to die. No more pain and weariness, no more care for Charlie Harrison. He has won his commission and gone away. I took the young widow under my especial charge, and had her comfortably boarded in a safe family, where she could ply her trade and be under no fear that she would be homeless. There I left her, until we should see if Leander Rosecraft could be found. I took great care to go out as much asI had done be- fore the event which had happened in our family ; to fre- quent every scene which itmight be supposed I would frequent; to be a constant and always to be depended upon visitor and servant in my society; and to keep up exactly the same demeanor of quiet grief, which I had observed be- fore my sister was found. This was scarcely feigned; my grief was only one degree less now in the daily centempla- tion of my beloved one’s sufferings. | Mr. Lindhurst came as usual, and in his kind, thoughtful way strove to fling rays of sunshine across my gloomy path. But, much as I learned to love him and depend upon him, I closed this page of my heart even from him, and locked the secret return within the limits of our own house. I found her on the 5th day of April, and we nursed her quietly and without apparent danger for nearly four weeks, during which time we could not see that she gained much strength; and, what was even more painful, notwithstand- ing the ceaseless and tender love which we both lavished upon her; she still remained sunk in the profoundest melan- choly. Day after day found all our efforts futile to kindle a spark of light in that darkened heart. ‘The father, whose deep, tender soul was yearning over his child, only seemed to throw additional shadow over her whenever he appeared. It became heart-rending to me to watch the sad, gentle face of my sister grow hard and despairing, whenever our father’s foot sounded on the stairs. He would wait for me to unlock the door, and stealin with a basket of rarest fruit in his hand, and a smile on his dear, tender face; and it would be: ‘< Will my Lina taste these grapes? See, how large and luscious, and sweet as those grown on the sunny sides of COMICOOO S (©)