Beadle's Dime Novels No. 3: Myra, the Child of Adoption — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

THINK NO MORE ABOUT IT. 71 father’s face? Was the young girl awaking from her dream ? did she begin to feel how truly, how ardently she loved? or was the rosy vail but half lifted from her heart? She cast a supplicating glance at her mother, and her look was answered by one of sweet and undisturbed affection. That feminine and lovely woman could sympathize far better with the sweet, wild feelings that broke so eloquently, that moment, through the troubled eyes of her child, than with the stern displeasure of her husband. She arose from the breakfast-table and glided from the room, making a sign for her daughter to follow. “Stay,” said the master of the house, addressing Myra, as she was turning toward her own room. “TI would ask a sin- gle question, and then let us haye done with this impostor, for, doubtless, he is such.” “No, father, no; I would pledge my life for his honor; he is no impostor,” exclaimed Myra, as her father led the way to a little study that opened from the breakfast-room. “As you would have done for the gentlemanly old man with the Bible, I dare say,” was the half-humorous, half-ironi- cal rejoinder. “But answer my question, Myra: has this young man ever presumed to lift his eyes to you as an equal? has he ever uttered a word that might lead you to suppose that he thinks of you save as a stranger ?” “ Indeed, papa, he never has—far, far from it. When other young men have overwhelmed me with flatteries; when, as your heiress, homage of every kind has been lavished upon me, he alone has been silent. Always respectful, always kind, - he has never, for one moment, taken the attitude often as- sumed by other young men who could not boast a tithe of his merit. He has seldom spoken to me of himself—never has the word love passed between us.” “You are eloquent, Myra, alike in the praise and in the defence of this stranger.” “I speak but the truth, papa” “Well, I am glad of it. The whole affair can be more readily dismissed than I supposed. —Now go to your chamber and think no more about it.” “Think no more about it;” truly it was a request easily made, but how impossible to obey. Why, the very thought of that stranger youth had henceforth the power of an angel comicbooks. conn