Beadle's Dime Novels No. 3: Myra, the Child of Adoption — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

~* BAFFLED HOPE—THE ENVELOPE. 27 “We must convey it to her gradually; she must be sub- ~ dued by degrees,” said Ross, smoothing the mane of his horse with one hand. “ Yes,” replied the other—the same man who had accom- panied Ross on his visit to De Grainges’ cell—“ with her inex- perience and impetuous temper, there is no judging what extravagance she might enact. She might even start off in search of him, and then—” Here a sensation of faintness e over Zulima, and she lost a few words. When the ; cleared from her brain, Ross was speaking. “He would not see her. You do not know the man— see |” Ross took a letter from his pocket, and the two held it be- tween them, while Ross once or twice pointed out a paragraph with his finger and commented on it in a voice so low that Zulima could only gather what he said from the expression of his face. The first words that she could distinguish were: _ “ This silence has already driven her wild; you will have a fine time of it when she hears this gossip about a ri “Tt may not reach her; indeed, how can it ?” “ These things always reach head-quarters sooner or later,” was the reply, so far as it reached Zulima, for that moment the horse which Ross rode became tired of inaction and shied around suddenly ; his rider with difficulty secured the letter, which was crushed in his hand, as he hastened to draw the curb, while an enyelope, which had contained it, fluttered to the ground. “Let it go, let it go. I have all that is important,” cried Ross, checking his companion, who was about to dismount, and reining in his impatient steed with difficulty. The next instant they were both out of sight. Searcely had they gone, when Zulima sprang from her cov- ert and seized the envelope. It was her husband’s writing, addressed to the post-mark Philadelphia—a letter from her husband and not to her! Zulima held her breath; she looked wildly around, as if in scarch of something that could explain this mystery ; then her eyes fell to the writing again. Tears, that seemed half fire, flashed down upon the commiclbooks.aconn