Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 220: what you’re looking at

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

Pe Phe Dawn of a Brighter Day. a1 pla Dee Ria ebhis-bee seat of honor—for her unex- ted visitor. Brcenio, \Norah, and I will sit here at your feet, on this Ss Soci. Ah, those pleasant days, Norah, when you taught me to concoct Tohnnie- cake, and let me burn the bottom out of y rour saucepans making taffy-candy! I wonder if my new life, with all its grandeur, will be any happier than that?’ ay She laughed a little, but she also sighed. The fair young Biace in repose looked worn and drawn, and there were deep g lines across the smooth brow, plowed there by the hard hand “of trouble. ‘ > et A “My child!” Norah said, with emotion, “do you know we 5 all thought you dead—a!l ¢ ? “Yes, I know,” very softly, very sadly. “Better so, since as am dead: to—to every one but you., I know everything/ EN érah, but I am not’sorry for what I have done. The old Bite is closed forever—lI am Mrs. Bartram no more. I am iss De Montreuil now and until the end of my days.” + Y “now you may repent of after.” P scttled into a hard look Norah had never seen there before. . ‘N orah, I am not the girl you knew—not the happy, hopeful, _ world, and thought it well lost, for Alwyn Bartram! I have , done with hope, and trust, and faith in mankind, forever __and ever. I will be happy. a can; but never again with the happiness that is gone. I have been cruelly and shamefully : _used, Norah, and if my heart has not been broken, some- thing worse ‘has been done, for it. has grown hard and cold oe ; day! 19 i Her voice rang out clear and cald; her pale face trac Fae igid as marble; her eyes looked straight before her with a hard glitter painful to see. a can Top eg they—Alwyn Bartram and Roysten Darrell—had taken ‘i a dagger and stabbed me. they would have done a less eruel and dastardly deed. No, Norah, don’t speak, don’t advise— t is all of no use. I know everything you ean tell me, and m ore. I know that Roysten Darrell is dead; I know he told bth : > truth before he died; I know that my husband believed wa en he could doubt no longer; I know he has searched for me r and wide, and used every means man could use to win x ne ack. I daresay he 1s sorry for the past; I daresay he f nip ences; | . bee he would be very kind and good fe “No, no!” said Estella; “keep your throne of state for sepie, as I used to long ago, in the dear old house in Poplar. “JT will never repent!” She lifted os head, and her face | _ trusting girl who left you—-who would have left the wide “My child—my dear Miss Essie—take eare! Do nothing ; as s a stone.. I have lost something—heart, conscience, I don’t . _ know what—but I will never ‘be what I was to my dying (E(@) ry - , . <7) Sty ae WS ok ere. ‘ va Pe ‘+ | | oo & ‘ 7 . “ai.” o> Ye.‘ Sure: