Beadle's Dime Novels No. 14 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

110 THE EMERALUW NECKLACE. CHAPTER XVI. THE NECKLACE IS EXORCISED. “* Witches! Avaunt!” THERE were two weddings upon the eighteenth of October; - and if there were, in any Eden of the world, a happier bride- groom than Paul Pennon, that other happier one was Noyse. The pride and tenderness which dwelt in Rosalie’s eyes as she looked at him with a new and sweet timidity—the thought of that superb beauty having yielded to him her heart at last, was joy enough to blot out all memory of the bitter cup he had once tasted, except just enough to flavor more exquisitely the present draught of contentment. The ceremonies took place on a golden afternoon and the festivities were continued late into the evening. Music, dan- cing, and feasting honored the occasion. Julien Percy was one of the guests, though not a very brilliant one. Clematis was alone in her chamber. There was still a “sound of revelry” in the parlor; some one was playing the piano, and conversation was going merrily on. She heard all this indistinctly as she stood in her bridal chamber. Two or _ three of the ladies had stolen away with her to offer their ser- vices, but she had dismissed them and was serving herself. The bridal vail was removed from her hair, the flowers from her bosom, and now she stood motionless, her head drooped, her hands listless, while a crowd of emotions and memories rushed over her, Suddenly she became conscious of a strange presence; the light flared and flickered, and a dim, ghostly luster, neither that of moon or star, filled the chamber. She felt irresistibly impelled to turn and gaze upon the spirit which she felt was near her, yet her body refused to obey. “ Clematis Percy Pennon, heiress of our line and inheritress of our misfortunes, didst thou hope to escape the destiny irre- vocably fixed upon every bride who, as heiress of her father’s house, has worn the Emerald Necklace?” asked a thin and dreary voice, yet sweet and sad withal, whose solemn ac- comicbooks.com