The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 258: what you’re looking at

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

THE THREE SISTERS 241 and who, by having no shame to conceal, may retain her couch until nature restores herself again. But it was not without a painful effort that Agatha had thus defied, as it were, the ordinary course of nature, and there had been moments when, though the smile was upon her lip, agony was in all her limbs, and though her spirits seemed elevated as if inspired by thrilling music, her frame was in reality drooping as if she must sink down through mere exhaustion. Indeed, had it not been for certain excellent restoratives and sovereign cordials which Mrs. Ranger had administered, Agatha never could have sustained her part in such a man- ner; but even though she succeeded in doing so, it was at some little sacrifice of her health, and the wonder with her sisters and Mrs. Ranger was, not that she looked somewhat pale and delicate, but that she was so little pale and delicate as she appeared. And now behold her, in a loose morning wrapper, one of those elegant French muslin negligees which so well become a lovely woman and give such an air of sweet and touching interest to the invalid, one of those negligees, in a word, which tantalize the eye with glimpses of the charms that they envelop and which reveal all the contours that they ought to conceal. But it was through no coquetry at the present moment that Agatha Owen had assumed this winning garb; it was merely thrown hastily on ere her toilet was completed, in order that she might enjoy with her sisters the fresh air of the morning in that balcony, and woo to her pale face the breeze which, blowing soitly and gently over the warm plains, lost the chill at first imparted by the snow-capped mountains. For such a breeze was well calculated to bring the blush of the rose back to Agatha’s countenance, and as she inhaled that pure air, it seemed as if her lungs expanded with the renovation of vigorous health. One arm, the roundness of which was defined by an elegant bracelet, lay negligently over the plump white shoulders of her sister Emma, whose morning toilet was completed; while on the other side of Agatha appeared Julia, equally lovely, equally dissolute, but more sentimental and affection- ate than her sisters. Agatha’s dark brown hair was arranged in glossy bands, ornamented with a white rose, an emblem of that chastity which she possessed not. Emma/’s hair was in tresses, but CORNICLOO eS) (C(O) im