Beadle's Dime Novels No. 20: Florida; or, The Iron Will — page 99: what you’re looking at

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

THE SIGNATURE. 97 “ Yes indeed, mother—but what set you to writing ?” “0! Florry did it, dear—she wanted me to put my name to something, I don’t know what, and so she set me to prac- ticing, as if I was a child, Jenny, as if I was a.child ;” and a little feeble laugh accompanied the speech. “ And do you know what you signed, mother?” asked Vir inia. who, little as she knew of such things, felt that a signa- ture of that kind was too important to be given lightly. “Bless your heart—no, darling, I don’t know as T do. Plorry explained, and said something about some property ; but—my poor memory—I forget.” . “And did any one—I mean, was anybody here, at the time ?” “Only Sarah, and the other woman—they wrote their nanies, too; but I don’t believe twas as good as mine, do you, Jenny ?” _ Virginia did not answer. If Florida wanted witnesses for the signing of the signature, why did she aot call her, or some more responsible person? Clearly, this must be a plot of Florida’s to.obtain absolute command of the business, or con- trol of the property. She felt hurt to think she had not been trusted, and her dislike to her half-sister took a deeper color- ing than before. Still, having no counselor, she knew not what to do in the case. She was too proud to let Florida know that she suspected her, and too innately delicate to take any roundabout way to ascertain the facts. She kissed her mother, and, accompanied still by her thoughts, left the house _ and walked onward rapidly. It was a long med to the: Dupont buildings. Virginia had seen them—a row of grimy houses built of brick and stone, in the rear of a Gothic church. She jessened her pace as she drew near, and the dread of what he would think began to oppress her. . “Tt is my duty,” she said bravely to herself, “ and 1 know ' he is good and kind. TI will not fear, but-go forward in the s strength of God.” x , Go eve passed the rows of dirt-beplastered children, engagea in the laudable occupation of making pies of sand and water, baking them in the sun—hurried rf re little Boy Soa their lozenges aud ginger-nuts and apples, and gain door, where, after passing through the vestibule, ~he 20 ° Cconmmcoooks.conn