Beadle's Dime Novels No. 20: Florida; or, The Iron Will — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

_— A FORTUNE. 51 Sympathy from him to an unwonted degree; she had learned, also, that the fortune amounted to forty thousand pounds Sterling, after all the expenses of transit, travel and fees should be paid—and there she sat, as calm, as apparently unconcern ed, as if the matter were of scarcely any moment to her. The lawyer was lost in admiration, and said to himself, “She is precisely the woman to whom such a fortune should come— able to cope with adversity, able to bear prosperity.” “I beg your pardon,” said a bland voice, and the stranger who had been closeted with the lawyer some time before, entered—his keen orbs encountering the dark eyes of Florida. “T beg your pardon, Burney, but I left my cane, I believe,” he said, coming forward. “T’m the most careless mortal.” “Yes, yes; like all men on the look-out for a wife.” said the lawyer, laughing. “ Yes, chere it is in the corner; I see the gold head peeping up. Good-morning. One of our millionaires,” he added, in an aside to his visitor, as the gentleman again left the office. Florida-smiled, and immediately took up the point they had left in their conversation. “Tt seems perfectly clear to me, now,” she said, quietly, “and I shall act upon your advice. I have been thinking, ever since last fall, of moving to the city. T engaged a few rooms, appropriate to our position at that time, which of course I shall now give up; but I can not relinquish my plan of Moving to the city. Still, I do not wish, yet, to undergo the trouble of house-hunting and furnishing. Ts there any plan you ean think of that would not involve this care—a house ready furnished, for instance, that I could occupy for a while?” “Really, I don’t know,” mused the lawyer, who did not feel time hang heavy in conversation with so sensible, beauti- fal and business-like a woman. . “ Yes, I have it! I have it!” he repeated, striking his palms softly together. “ My friend, Mr. Horace Dudley, is on the eve of a journey to England— €xpects to be from home a year. He is at this very time on the look-out for a housekeeper, to take charge of his domestic Matters while he is gone. Now, it strikes me that he had bet-_ ter let the place to a responsible person, who will have an eye © the good of the whole premises.” _ “ Where is this house, sir ?” comliclooks.comn .. |