Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 228: what you’re looking at

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

a ‘ex (ee Ae A ae ah taku a . + ’ ; : t : ye ie ii . ey ue Fe aT, wey ; Ma ; v" " ee ‘ $ 4 , an a a oe | After Ten Week 223 I light, and for the third time that sharp pang of remembrance 4: vierced his heart. They were alike,.his dead wife and this _ living - beauty. “You ‘look at my handsome cousin,” Leonie exclaimed, in F the rapid, vivacious way that was her*latest role. “She re- minds you ot Ah! pardon me. The subject is painful, ye I. know. Very beautiful, is she not? But, mon Diew! colder than snow, more heartless than the goddess with the shield { Find helmet, and more wise. It isa paragon of frigidity, and piety, and prudence, and all the rest of it. My stately, pas- sionless, perfect cousin. Don’t look too much, Monsieur i Be Alwyn. Like that other goddess, Medusa; she is ‘fatal to all who gaze for long.” _. “Yet mademoiselle does not look merciless,” Mr. Bartram e said, slowly. “She has a peculiarly gentle face. One would i uot think a heart of stone lay beneath that tender smile.” ee ‘She has two eyes so soft and brown, Take. care! She gives a side glance and looks down, . Beware! Trust her not, she's” fooling thee.’ ” a er hummed the words = way of answer. _ “She is fatal, I tell you! Those tender smiles, those gentle ih eyes, have lured more of your unhappy sex to their ruin than § pall the sirens and water-witches in the fabled seas of Faerie. She will smile and look sweet to the end of the chapter, and etic you lay your heart at her pretty bottines, she will smile s and look sweeter than ever, and say, No. And the laws of . the Medes were more easily altered than that terrible No. ee "She has no faith in mankind as lovers or husbands. She is Be - eynical and skeptic to the core. As friends, as ball-room @ _ partners, as something sensible to talk to, you do well enough; but as her future husband, no, Mr. Alwyn Bartram. As a friend, I advise you not to look too long at that pale, classical face. My belle cousine wiil never marry.” ‘ 2G 9 Not Rather hard, is it not? And why?” ~ Leonie laughed a litt! e contemptuously. “Who knows? Been crossed in love, as the housemaids say, in early life—at least I presume so. There must be a ¢ zause for all that b.tterness, and she is bitter as death on the st ubject _ sometimes. She wears a picture round her neck; if 3 ame a could only see it, 1t might tell tales; and she has her an- eet of some great sorrow, or some great joy, for every lew , Year's Day is sacred, and she shuts herself up in her ap e srossed_ ‘his a dite ereat, fathomless eyes of liquid oom and sees no. one. Her past life is)a sealed mystery to me—to her ather, too, I think, gas she 1 1s intensely secretive. (E(0). Mk PS ee , a “arpa ts : . * : , ‘ ~