The Widowed Bride — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

14 ‘THE WIDOWED BRIDE. more imminent than ever, for there could be no excuse framed for driving him away from his own home, especially as his regiment happened to be quartered close by for a few weeks. ‘We will go down to Glenhampton at once,” she thought. ‘‘Miss Percival cannot have the face to follow us thither | once more; or if she does presume to think of it I believe | shall know how to put her in her right place!” ‘'l'o Glenhampton so soon, mamma!” cried the puzzled Lady Blanche, who could not comprehend the subtle work- ings of the elderly lady’s mind. ‘‘Why, I have not been presented yet! and the lovely emerald green silk has never even been taken out of its box!” ‘There will be plenty of other opportunities, my dear,” said Lady Glenhampton, quietly; ‘‘and I think you need country air and quiet just at present more than the whirl and tumult of a London season. You are young still, and you will lose nothing by waiting. I have given orders about packing to your maid, and we will start the day after to-morrow.” The morrow, during which Lady Blanche would scarcely allow Rena to be out of sight, was spent in shopping, pack- ing, and the numerous other occupations which precede a hurried start, and it was not until evening that the family found time to assemble in the drawing-room, to enjoy a brief season of leisure. : Lady Blanche sat at the piano, singing a pretty little bal- Jad she had picked upon the esplanade at Brighton. Lady Glenhampton reclined in an easy chair, apparently listening to Blanche’s music, but in reality uneasily watching Captain Ernest Evelyn, as he hung over Miss Percival’s low seat in the bay window. ‘She is beautiful,” she was forced to confess to herself, as the shaded light fell full on Rena’s face, revealing its ex- quisite curves and classic lines, and contrasting the silky darkness of her hair with the pink and white of her com- plexion and the carnation redness of her lips; ‘‘but not more beautiful than many a woman whom Ernest has passed by withont a second thought. I wish I knew the secret of the magic influence she carries with her. Is there ~ actually any foundation of truth in the stories of spells and amulets? One might almost be tempted to believe that she carries one, hidden away somewhere! I wish Blanche had + ecomicbooks