The Widowed Bride — page 108: what you’re looking at

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

THE WIDOWED BRIDE. 99 ‘But what made her glide away like she was afraid of livin’ creaturs?” still persisted the housekeeper. ‘She never likes to be seen here. You know how pecu- * liar she is, Wadesleigh.” - ‘It’s give mea turn as Ishall not get over for a week,” panted Mrs. Wadesleigh, putting her plump hand to her side; but Lady Blanche slipped past her, and hurried thr ough the door, beneath whose heavily arched portals the black form had vanished, and Rena followed her. Swift as thought the two -fair young girls hastened down gsloomy corridors, past arched gate ways, and out through a postern entrance into the air and sunshine. Antonia Clive stood there motionless, with her hands folded, anda dark kerchief wrapped round her head. ‘‘Miss Clive,” said Blanche, eagerly, ‘‘was it you we saw in the octagon room, just now?” “What brings you young things into this place of gloom and shadows?” Miss Clive demanded, sadly. “But wasit you? Mrs. Wadesleich, poor old soul, would have it, that it was nothing less than the ghost of Lady Beatrix, who died a hundred years ago.” “Tt was I,” Miss Clive answered, calmly. ‘Then I shall go back and spoil the poor old woman’s delightful little ghost story,” laughed Lady Blanche; and Mrs. Wadesleigh was forced, unwillingly, to abandon her theory of supernatural visitations, so far as that particular morning was concerned. The countess was sitting at her drawing-room window, as Rena and Blanche returned after their inspection of the Castle. — Well, Miss Percival,” she said, smiling, ‘‘have you en- joyed your ramble?’ ’ “Yes,” said Rena, sinking down on a low divan opposite, and letting her roses fall into her lap, ‘‘I suppose I have.” ‘You suppose so?” echoed Lady Glenhampton, somewhat surprised. “TI cannot tell whether it was enjoyment or not,” said Rena, pressing her hand to her forehead. ‘‘Of course, I admired the beautiful pictures, and marbles, and furniture, but, as I passed through some of those rooms, the strangest sensation would steal over me, almost as if I was walking in avision. Lady Glenhampton’ ’—with her dark eyes fixed with pleading earnestness on the countess’ oe -bred fea- Eomicbooks (ef @)