The Widowed Bride — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

THE WIDOWED BRIDE. 93 ing her piercing scream, and seeing the dead face pillowed in the grass and fern as if it were asleep, except for the wide open glassy eyes. He is buried in St. Hilda’s churchyard, and Miss Clive goes every day, rain or shine, summer or winter, to lay a wreath of fresh flowers upon his grave. “Tr sounds like a romance,” said Rena, thoughtfully. ‘Tt is like a romance,” said Lady Blanche. ‘‘She has made it the business of her life to discover and track out the man who murdered Mr. Hunsworth—that was her lover’s name—and I believe she thinks and dreams of noth- ing else by day or night. Mamma calls it a monomania; she has striven by every possible means to distract her atten- tion and win her thoughts away from the one all-absorbing topic, but it is quite useless. She never goes away from home, but she is in communication by letter with every police detective in England or on the Continent.” “1 should be afraid of her.” ‘“‘No, you would not; she is too gentle for that. Besides, I have known her all my life, and I believe she was mamma’s friend before she married my father. Mamma was a young widow then, without much money.” ‘‘Has your mother been married twice?” asked Rena. ‘To be sure. Didn’t you know that Ernest was not my own brother?” ‘‘How should I know it, you unreasonable Blanche, when you have never told me?” Lady Blanche Arden laughed ont merrily in the twilight. ‘‘Perhaps I took it for granted that you ought to know by instinct!” she replied. ‘‘But Ernest is Captain Evelyn, and, you know, had he been papa’s son, he would have been — Lord Ernest Arden.” ‘‘T am not so well posted in the peerage as you,” retorted Rena. ‘‘However, I dare say the aristocratic atmosphere of this splendid old castle, will find its way through my dull- ness after a while, so that I shall not prove quite incorrig- ible! So, this Miss Clive used to be your governess?” ““Mine and Ernest’s too. Wewere very fond of her, and still are, for that matter, although she never assumed any charge of usafter Mr. Hinsworthes terribledesth: Shehad omer “Kh ot’ “ ; : a brain fever then, and, even after her recovery, it was _~months before she recovered her usual health and strength, either bodily or mentally. She lives here partly because Mamma loves her so dearly, and partly because the murder <S Eo Eomicboo m