Beadle's Dime Novels No. 35: East and West — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

NEW ATTRACTION. Ye not slacken her pony’s pace, so that he might overtake her, he spurred over the whole twenty miles at a rate rather try- ing to his steed. He was fairly in sight of Willard’s Mill before he gave up the chase; then he let the rein fall on ‘this horse’s neck with a feeling of pique at the discourtesy of the lady—the idea of her being lost not occurring to him. “T’ve nothing to do but to turn about and ride back again. Of course I will not intrude upen the family—they are stran- gers to me.” . Flushed with the haste of his travel, he lifted his broad- brimmed hat from his head, as he gazed admiringly at the rosy mists just rolling from the distant bluffs; then, as he dropped his eyes from the distant heights, they fell upon a nearer loveliness, which fairly made.the blood bound into his cheeks. Fletcher was something of an artist ; indeed, pen and pen- cil both entered into the insignia of his office; his present business in this far-away Western world, in which he was about as much of a novice as Constance Lord herself, was to prepare a series of sketches and articles for an illustrated periodical at the East. He was a careless, sarcastic man of the world, bright and keen—not wicked, not even reckless— but with that dashing grace of apparent folly which only reaches perfection in a certain set of young men, who illu- minate the great metropolis with their rather astounding bril- liancy. Of course he had a good opinion of himself, in a quiet way; and of course he had some reason for it. He had a ready wit—he was a constant contributor to a certain comic weekly—and many accomplishments, and that knowl- edge of others, which made him slip quietly into any place where he might be thrgwn. He was not rich, but his family and character were such that he had the entrée of some ex- cellent society. Many a time he had walked along the fash- ionable promenades of New York, beside the same young lady whom he was now in search of under such unsuitable circumstances. It had been as pleasant as it was unexpected to Constance and her brother, their meeting him at the little hotel where the reader was first introduced to them. But what was it which riveted his eyes as they dropped from the distant hills to the road before him ? comJcbdooks.com