The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 268: what you’re looking at

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

HENRIETTA LEYDEN — 251 mother’s breast, and then, as she once more contemplated his sweetly beautiful countenance, — all the more beautiful because replete with childhood’s innocent expression, — and as she lovingly played with his silken chestnut hair, she again found herself giving way to her despondent musings. “ Poor child! passing the greater portion of your days in the sickly atmosphere of this wretched room, perhaps art thou imbibing the seeds of disease and death from that mother who gave thee life. Alas! is it indeed a mortal sickness which has fastened itself upon me? Must I die soon? Am I sinking and fading away? Or is it through want and privation and sorrow that I am thus stretched upon this sick-bed? My sweet boy, how cheerfully would I surrender up my life this moment if it would ensure thine happiness and prosperity! Thou, thy poor mother’s darling, how rejoiced should I be if I had the means of giving thee toys to play with, and pretty clothes to wear, and an airy, wholesome room to sleep in, and good food to eat. But thy cheeks are pale, my poor little fellow, for want of proper nourishment and fresh air. Oh, if we had but a cottage in the country, were it ever so humble, that you might frolic about in the green fields and that the colour should come back to your cheeks — _ But, no, no, this may not be, this never will be! Poverty has laid its hand upon us, penury is our doom, wretchedness our fate. May God grant, my poor boy, that all these evils blight not the purity of your sweet sister. Oh, let us suffer all that we do suffer with resignation, — ay, even with cheerfulness, —so long as my own Henrietta remains the good and virtuous girl that she is at present. But when I think of the temptations to which she is exposed, the heartless libertines who frequent that place, and the sufferings which she sees her mother and her brother experience, I tremble — oh, how I tremble — lest when in her despair she stretches out her hand to God, the infamy of man may drop gold into that appealing palm!” At this moment Mrs. Leyden’s ear caught the sound of a light step ascending the stairs, — ascending, too, more lightly and with a greater elasticity than ever, light and elastic though that step always was; and it was also with a greater precipitation than usual that Henrietta threw open the door and made her appearance. Her cheeks, that were GoOmicdoo SS (S(O)