Beadle's Dime Novels No. 14 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

18 THE EMERALD NECKLACE. was a woman of excellent mind, smiled at the stories attached to the costly trinket, which she thought would be a fine pres- ent to me upon the occasion of my marriage. She sent to an aunt, who had the jewels in charge (almost the sole remaining token of former splendor), who forwarded them at her request, and they arrived the day before my marriage. This house, in which we still reside, was the homestead of my mother. Well do I remember of taking that dreaded box (for I confess _ to a small degree of superstition), stealing out in the moonlight, “and dropping it into the well,—after which I breathed more freely; and could give my hand to my lover, the next morn- -ing, with no worse dread than maidens usually feel upon sim- ilar occasions. It was eighteen years ago the tenth of last month,” she added, with a soft sigh. “And to your throwing away the emeralds, I suppose you attribute all of your and papa’s unwonted felicity,” said Cle- matis, with a light laugh. “TI do—I certainly do!” murmured Mrs. Percy ; “and I am sorry you found them, Clematis. May Heaven avert the usual result !” The mother said this so solemnly that the young girl felt oppressed fora moment. The dying light of the sun streaked the twilight with rosy bars ; the perfumed wind sighed at the casement; a bird fluttered to its nest with a sudden, tremulous cry. The artist had put the last touch to his picture as the lady spoke the last word of her story. He had been listening while he painted,—now he laid aside his pallet, looked at Clematis, and sighed. “Come !” laughed she, “ this is growing melancholy ; let us criticise your picture, Sir Artist.” But there was not light enough left for this severe business —she must defer her decision to the morrow. To-morrow! To-morrow their guest was going away. commicloooks.cormn