Beadle's Dime Novels No. 3: Myra, the Child of Adoption — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

SUSPICION. 73 to a seat, himself a prey to all the quick apprehension that her unusual restraint was calculated to inspire. A*few common- place words were spoken, then both became silent and pre- oceupied. At length Myra observed that her father had re- turned home that morning, but she blushed while saying it, as if the young man could have guessed at the conversation that had given so much pain to herself. A vague idea of the truth did evidently flash across the young man’s mind, for he turned another long and earnest look upon her face, which was now glowing crimson to her temples, and when he thrned his eyes away, the faintest possi- ble smile stole over his lips. “Tt is.” he said, with a faint sigh—* it is now more than two months since I arrived in Philadelphia. All that time your kind mamma has received me as a guest. Perhaps I should not have accepted this hospitality without first con- vincing her that I was not unworthy of it; but I found it so sweet to be taken on trust, so flattering to be valued for my- self alone, that I had almost forgotten the reasonable demands of society. I ought long since to have convinced her that it was no impostor to whom her kindness had been extended.” “Impostor!” exclaimed Myra, with a smile that told how impossible she thought it that even suspicion should be at- tached to him. “What if I were to be suspected as such ?” added Whitney with an answering smile. “IT would not believe it—I would believe no wrong of you, ‘though your own lips asserted it !” was the generous reply. The color swept over young Whitney’s face, and there was something in his eyes that deepened the crimson on Myra’s cheek ; but he only answered in a low and earnest voice: “IT thank you; with my whole heart I thank you for this confidence.” - Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he took from his pocket several letters which, with a hand that trembled somewhat, he presented to the young girl. She took them to the win- dow, and, half shaded by the curtains, began to read, rejoicing in the obscurity, for she felt a terror that the quick beating of her heart might become yisible. The letters were from several of the first men in America— comliclooks.com