A Parisian Romance — page 225: what you’re looking at

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

216 A PARISIAN ROMANCE. replied Armande, with a sigh. “I renounce it.” Madame de Targy regarded her fixedly, as if en- deavoring to read her inmost heart. “So, my dear child,” she said, slowly, “there is nothing, and no one attaches you to this world, no one whom you may regret having abandoned ?” Armande shook her head, sorrowfully. “Are you very sure?” persisted Madame de Targy. “What is the use of hopeless attachments?” re- turned the young widow, a look of sorrow and mortification cuntracting her brow. Madame de Targy laughed softly. The ambigu- ous words told her much, and her fears were set at rest. “You do not mean me,” she said, slyly, “when you say that, for you know how dearly I love you.” - Armande was silent for a moment, as it fearful to betray too much, and then she said, timidly: “Oh, no, Iam sure of your affection.” “ Are there others that you mean, then, my dear?” asked Madame de Targy, with the gentleness and tenderness a mother might have used in interro- gating her daughter. Armande was evidently greatly tr cubed: Her cheeks were crimson, her lips trembled, and there — was just a suspicion of tears about her lashes. “T am afraid so,” she murmured, in a scarcely audible voice. “We women are rarely mistaken, you know, in matters of that sort.” Eomicbooks.¢o