Beadle's Dime Novels No. 20: Florida; or, The Iron Will — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

12 «FLORIDA; OR, THE IRON WILL father ; whether or not he knows me, I can not tell. He— his face was turned partly away, his tones were low and rapid—‘“ he deserted my mother. Great Heaven! that ] should live to tell any other than him! O! could I but see him now—face to face—the base, unnatural—villain!’ he added, after a second, as if he were seeking for a word that would express his utter and entire abhorrence. “ Virginia,” he said, in a softer voice, “the last recollection I have of my poor mother is this: A low-ceiled garret, over- looking dingy walls; a miserable bed, poorly furnished, oz which she lay, gasping for breath. Poverty and sorrow had eaten into her vitals. She hungered—while he—O! God !—I should not have ventured so far. It is like tearing soul from body—worse than the agony of death !” “ Parker, what have I done ? It was my thonghtlessness ; but how could I know? Forgive me !” “For what? ‘Your questions were natural—but the past swept over me like a surging wave. I felt—forgive me—as if some one might have come between us—might have endeay- ’ ored, with false stories, to alienate my darling. I know the strong prejudices of these New England people—and—but I was wrong, was I not, Virginia ?” He took her hands; his own were cold and shaking. Virginia knew not what to think. Her mind was bewildered. ce ae, ae ak apes Agee, bas ees breathlessly. “No one,” she replied. “Then, thank God, my impression was a false one. I was not born here, Virginia. . I never told you, I think.” “You never did.” “ No—one of those far-off West India islands was the place of my birth, but I was brought to America when very young. My mother lived till I was thirteen. Then, through the kindness of a friend, I was sent to school. O! to be mother- 9 less, friendless, with a soul so keenly alive to those insults experienced always by the timid mother’s smile has been his heaven! Virginia, you hat the loss of a kind father, but you had stil] something on—your mother was left. If she is your idol, as was mint, then you have a blessing in the mids’ of every griet Virginia, are you superstitious ?” conmmicldooolkks.conn »*