Beadle's Dime Novels No. 95 — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

A FLATTERER, 49 more desperate than ever, and he determined to possess her at any hazard. But_for some reason, he had never dared to broach the subject to her. ° He spoke to the old lady, and found her very pliable. She liked the idea, as it had been a favorite project with her that her child should marry a man of her nation’s blood. At His request, she said nothing about it to Maggie, but let events _ taxe their own course. i Maggie, at first, was pleased with his fluent conversation, - and his brilliant descriptions of the wonders of: far-off France and ‘Italy ; for he had traveled in these countries, and knew their attractions by heart. Some of his sophistries, however, did not agree with her creed, and-she combated them strongly, generally gaining the victory; and, as their acquaintance ripened, perceiving that vanity and selfishness formed the chief basis of his character, she grew weary of him at last. But he bad determined to bring matters to a crisis; and, to her intense chagrin, attached himself to her on this par- ticular afternoon, when she most desired to be alone, and would not be shaken off. She wished him at the antipodes, earn- estly, half a dozen times that day, but, with provoking per- tinacity, he would not see the cloud upon her face, and fol- owed her downto the spring, when she took a pail, as a pre- | text, and started that way. “T can mos permit it,” said he, taking the pail from her un- willing hand; “I shall bear‘you company. You were never framed to pear the hardships of this strange, wild life, ma belle. “You shall carry no such burdens, if I can prevent it.” “T do not quarrel with fortune,” said Maggie, coldly. “Each has a station appointed i life, and though mine is a lowly one, I am prouder to be a citizen of the brave new world, ‘than to be a countess in the old—I am indeed.” “If you were a countess, you might change your mind.” ‘Iam not a countess, and, unless I remove to Carolina, stand a poor chance of being one. Come, come, Master Chat- tillon, give me the pail. You are mocking at me, now, I can plainly see, and that I will not abide.” “ Mocking !” cried he. “ Upon my life;:if you had Four ‘ust deserts, you would be Empress of Fraifee.” ” Your pardg@n ; you say yoy are not mocking, and yet that comicbookskeona