The Widowed Bride — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

THE WIDOWED BRIDE. — 109. ‘Very little, indeed; so little that your mother and Blanche oddly tolerate me out of kindness.” She looked up at him with soft, appealing eyes, and Cap- tain Evelyn thought, with a tumultuous throb at his heart, what a very charming girl this friend of his sister was. Rena read in his face the impression she had succeeded in making, and her spirit inwardly rejoiced. «We will see whether I cannot be quits with you yet, my Lady Glenhampton,” she thought to herself. ‘‘I wonder if he has much property of his own, though, of course, the son of the Countess of Glenhampton cannot bea poor man.’ The reader will perceive that Rena Percival’s scheming propensities were in full flower even at this early period of her contact with the great maneuvering world. ‘‘What shall you wear to-morrow, Rena?” asked Blanche, when, as usual, she came to her friend’s room, after the drawing-room circle had broken up for the night. “T do not think I shali go,” Rena answered. “Not go! Dear Rena, why not?” | Rena was silent for an instant; she could not grieve Blanche’s affectionate heart by saying to her, ‘‘Your mother has not invited me to be of the party.” | ‘‘Blanche,” she said, ‘‘you know all these people are strangers tome. I would rather not go out much until I become better acquainted in the neighborhood.” ‘But this is the only way to become acquainted,” pleaded Blanche. | “No matter, I would rather not go.” And not all Blanche’s entreaties and expostulations could induce her to swerve from the settled determination. Lady Glenhampton had laid her plans with systematic foresight to exclude Miss Percival from the croquet party. She had not even acquainted Lady Barrington with the fact that her daughter had a friend staying with her—but when, the next day, Lord Vere Temple was prevented from. ac- companying the rest by a severe nervous headache, she could not help being a little amazed. ‘‘Miss Percival.” she said, sweetly, ‘‘would you oblige me by copying out this piece of manuscript music to-day? I have promised it toa friend of mine in London by this evening’s mail, and unless you will kindly give me the benefit of your skill, I fear I shall be unable to keep my GComichooks:-com