Beadle's Dime Novels No. 14 — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

58 THE EMERALD NECKLACE. In vain she questioned the rosy shadow of her own lips, why they had no power to allure him from the silence which he seemed to prefer—in vain she asked of her own blue eyes why their soft and swimming depths held no mysteries for him to study—there came no satisfactory response to her deeply-vexed spirit. Rosalie was in an uncomfortable, mental predicament. Nothing but the subtle art which gifts such women with un- failing grace, would have miade it tolerable. Her relations with Noyse could not be pleasant; she knew that he read her purposes as in an open book; a jealous, yet scornful spectator of every advance which she made toward a rival who was, in turn, most mortifyingly indifferent to her. She thought it all over as she paced her room until she fairly struck her forehead with vexation, grinding the heel of her toilet-slipper into the carpet in a dangerous way. Rosalie —indolent as a water-lily lolling on the bosom of a stream in the sunshine—aroused herself to vow that matters should come to a crisis. Again she looked in the glass. A half-blown crimson rose flowered in a little vase upon the table; she placed it in the sunshine of her hair; her dress, white, of the softest, snowiest India lawn, profuse in its folds, light as the breeze which waved it, was already perfection. Stay! that scarf of amber- colored gauze—she fastened it over the back of her head with a turquoise pin, catching it up over one lovely bare arm from which the loose flowing sleeve swept away like the wing ofan ~ angel. , She was going to meet Pennon—by accident, Floating dewn the broad staircase like an incarnate thistle-down, she wafted herself out into a side avenue; from which she wan- dered to the river’s edge, through a thicket of roses, out upon an open lawn, around and about, until she came into the ca- talpa-walk, from a direction opposite to the castle. “Why, Mr. Pennon, you out this sultry afternoon ?” “ You do not look as if the August sun disturbed you any, Miss Sloane, You look as cool and fresh as a pearl just out of the depths of the sea—as cool— “ As a cucumber,” said Rosalie, forcing a laugh, for it seemed to her as if he were going to say—“ cool and calculating”— comiclbooks.corn ”