Beadle's Dime Novels, No. 11 — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

108 THE PRISONER OF LA VINTRESSE. “Oh, of course she came home,” said Mrs. Goreham, confi- dently; “she never stays. She might have come in some other way; just ring again, if you please.” Again the bell tingled—no answer. “Tl go and see if Bruno’s here,” said the gardener, while the farmer’s wife sat irresolute. “ Might as well say grace, Miss Goreham, p’r’haps by that time she'll come. She laid down, like’s not, and fell to sleep,” the gardener’s wife said, ciutiously. “ There’s Mr. Hambledon at the yeller house, when the folks don’t come in time to the table, he begins to say grace, and you ought to see how it brings’em. He never waits, for what’s the use ?” “Pll wait a few moments,” said Mrs. Goreham, quietly. “Well, it beats all,” exclaimed the gardener; “ Bruno ain’t nowhere. I called him with a whistle, as he hears gen’ally from one end o’ the farm to the other, but I don’t see him.” “What can be the meaning of the child’s gfopping in this manner? The sun is almost down,” exclaimed Mrs. Goreham, an indefinable terror taking possession of her heart. “I should"have known better than to have let her walk alone. I thought you would certainly go with her,” she added, turning to the gardener’s wife, who was quietly helping her- self to another cruller. “ She never so much as asked me,” replied that portly per- sonage. “She has too high ways for us humble folks.” “She did not? and I would not have sent her by herself, for worlds. How imprudgnt! we must make immediate search.” “Bless my heart!” exclaimed the gardener’s wife, watching the hurried efforts of Mrs..Goreham, who was throwing on bonnet and shawl, “ain’t she old enough to take care of her- self?” “She is placed in peculiar circumstances,” replied Mrs. Goreham, in a quick voice; then signifying to the gardener (who, meantime, had swallowed a cup of tea, poured expedi- tiously by his wife, managing at the same time to fill his pockets with doughnuts), they went away together, the man not forgetting to provide himself with a stout stick. In silence they walked at a rapid gait, till they reached the entrance of the resort that was Minerva’s favorite resting-place. Slowly comlicloooks.com