Beadle's Dime Novels No. 20: Florida; or, The Iron Will — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

OLD MEMORIES. : 79 “IT wanted to tell you—I wanted to say—” trembling, flushed, her eyes dilated, her lips quivering, she attempted in vain to _ finish the sentence. “ Well,” said Florida, imperatively, “speak quickly, then—I am hurried.” Virginia’s hands fell powerless—the color faded from her cheeks, the light from her eyes. “ It’s—no—matter,” she almost gasped, and Florida, seeing that she said nothing more, walked leisurely out of the room “I do believe she knows all,” sobbed the girl, the tears now raining down her cheeks. “O! I am so very wretched! How long will this terror and this misery last. I must tell, or it will drive me mad. If she does know it, she is cruel—if not, then she wil! be—I have no mercy to expect from her, for she never loved.” Blind with tears, she hurried from the room and gained her own chamber. A soft, weak, tremulous voice struck upon her ear, quavering unevenly, yet sweetly, through the mazes of” some old church-tune. Half frightened, she crept to the door. It was her mother, crooning to herself—a sound she had not heard for years. There she sat, her hands folded peacefully over her lap, her head resting against the back of the chatr, her eyes closed, but a saintly light enveloping the face that was aged prematurely. . : It made her heart light, notwithstanding, to see her mother so happy. She crept in, and sunk on her knees beside her “ Mother, it sounds good to hear you sing,” she said, softly. “O} does it? But that isn’t singing, you_know, Jenny dear. Did I ever tell you how I used to lead im the ol® Greenwich church choir?” _ Aye! a hundred times had those old memories been poured into the willing ear of Virginia. . _ “I think you may have, mother,” she replied, with ap innocent caution, “ but I'd like to hear you again.” “Ah! those days are long past,” murmured the invalid. “They used to say I had a splendid voice; and once a great singer wanted to educate me. He said I might make my fortune ; but father, being a very strict churchman, never wae Willing, though I wanted to go, dreadfully. Well, they had fine choir in the old Greenwich. The singers never used to ——s —..