The Widowed Bride — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

86 THE WIDOWED BRIDE. the left, the carriage skirted the terraces and rolled up to the erand front, and in an instant Lady Blanche Arden was in her mother’s arms. In the one instant in which she seemed forgotten by both mother and daughter, Rena had a good opportunity to study the face and features of the Countess of Glenhampton, whose stately charms as far excelled the delicate beauty of her young daughter as ‘the golden planet Venus outshines one of the pale Pleiades. The ten years which had elapsed since last she formed one of the dramatis persone of our tale had scarcely left an impress on her beautiful oval face, where the roses of health glowed softly through the cream- white skin. “‘Mamma,” said Blanche, ‘‘this is Rena Percival, my be- loved companion, of whom I have so often told you. You must be sure and love her very dearly, for my sake.” “It will be very easy for me to love Blanche’s friend,” said Lady Glenhampton, with a soft graciousness of man- ner which was exquisitely captivating. ‘You are more than welcome at Glenhampton, Miss Percival. Marienne, my maid, shall conduct you to your room at once, for dinner will soon be ready, and you have neither of you much time to dress.’ ‘“‘Rena’s room must be near mine, mamma,” cried out Lady Blanche, with the fearless imperiousness of a petted and indulged child. “IT believe Mrs. Wadesleigh has assigned to her the rose- rooms, just beyond yours, my child.” Lady Blanche executed a pirouette of delight. ‘‘How nice!” she exclaimed. ‘‘I knew dear old Wades- leigh would have things just to suit me, and there’s a door communicating between the two boudoirs, Rena. Won’t it be splendid?” But Rena scarcely heard what she saidke a feeling of dizzy bewilderment racked her brain as Lady Glenhampton led her down the grand circular hall, with its dome of deep-blue glass above, sprinkled with stars of gold, and the flowers, ‘and pictures, and bending statues around. “Oh, what a beautiful painting!” she exclaimed, stopping 33 short before an old representation of the Madonna _ which hung over one of the pillared door-ways. ‘‘It seems to me as if I had somewhere seen it before. ‘There are several copies of it, I believe,” said the coun- tess; ‘‘but this is an orignal which my husband purchased | Col Nic sco <S