Vashti's Fate — page 178: what you’re looking at

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

Ne ot % *. | 0 et i GEE Bias oe ee SAN st! Sle tae & IAN? Lee ee ma, oe een Sa eee lh, PER. Lot a ad 4 i. Oe ge RRAE EE he NE A he barge ee ga GPT) ORO Ae BAU Mee RRL > LDN a Dena a \* cd > » 9 ; Vag <A ; - arin a Ke oh a4 Bek de! \ io ms i yi j Be f - ; re yi i i f <P) 58 pte ie de ; 2 + é ' > ° y 4 ( - wy ‘ 4 ae Oe hs CHANGES. 2. 3 iret. to business, and Leon took his place in the matter that had brought him there. Eventually Mr. Brownlee returned home—so shattered in health, however, that the son took upon himself the whole business charge—a charge which involved the neces- sity of his remaining in England for an indefinite length of time. At first it was thought he would be home in six months, possibly; but six years went by before he touched the American shore again. | Four years at Everleigh had brought about considerable changes. It was a cool October evening again. In the sitting-room, Vashti Everleigh, matured to the proud and queenly developments her childhood had promised, stood @ at one side of the ample fire-lit hearth, listening, with im- patient look, word, and gesture, to Miss Margery Gresham. Miss Margery had grown sterner and more stately. Vashti looked willful and spoiled—a. spoiled beauty. Her face was the purest oval, with her hair folded in shin- ing bands against it, her form slender, but well rounded, and her movements graceful. She wore a deep shade of crimson, with garnet ornaments upon her neck and arms, that caught flashes of fire-light as she turned impatiently from Miss Gresham, and walked two or three times across the room. ‘‘T am eighteen this day,” she said, as she walked. ‘‘I would never have waited till now to announce this my de- termination, for I scorn anything like concealment; but Percy insisted that I should wait, and I obeyed him, as i expect to obey my husband.” ‘Very conjugal you'll be, no doubt,” said Margery, in her sarcastic way; ‘‘but you will never marry Percy Das- comb—never.” comicbooks.com |