ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Penny Dreadfuls, 1891 · page 50 of 242

Thrice Wedded, but Only Once a Wife — page 50: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Thrice Wedded, but Only Once a Wife — page 50: Penny Dreadfuls, 1891

A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1891. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

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

= THRICE WEDDED. 41 threw her arms around his neck, and sobs she could not re- strain again racked her frame. | One long, long, close embrace, and he put her down and sprang from the room, out into the darkness of the night, wiping from his own cheek the fast- falling tears. Dora flung herself full length upon the floor, in an utter abandonment of grief, and there her mother found her, an hour after, sound asleep, with the bright crystals still on her brown lashes. Robert retraced his steps, and reached his room undiscov- ered, and though he was grieved and sad to part with Dora, yet he hugged to his heart with joy the knowledge that she was really and truly his very own, and that her love for him was all he could ask. The next morning he started on his long journey, his father accompanying him as far as New York, from which place he was to sail. Robert wept at parting with his only parent, and felt al- most desolate to thus sunder every tie and go a stranger to a strange land. He had always loved and respected his father in spite of his cold, stern manner; still he would not beg to be allowed to remain at home, for ‘he was fully deter- mined to improve every advantage of travel and study, and thus fit himself to be a useful and happy man. So when Mr. Ellerton coldly shook his hand at parting, he could not realize the agony that whitened his boy’s proud face, and hardened his already stern voice; nor could he know how that pent-up anguish burst forth as the vessel bore him from his father’s lingering eyes, from which the tears rolled fast and unheeded, as he turned with aching heart to go back to his lonely home. CHAPTER VI. “Ty AM NO BEGGAR.” Squire Moulton was walking on the white pebbly margin of his beautiful miniature lake. His head was bowed upon his narrow and sunken chest, his hands were clasped with rigid firmness at his back, while his long grizzly hair hung in “neglected masses around his stooping shoulders. His ee avers ugly, looked es and uglier still as Eomicbo co) ‘cS: CO