Alfred de Rosann — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

& Aa yy i114 ALFRED DE ROSANN. lady, she endeavoured to smile; but the attempt was as vain as the essay of a departing sinner to assume a look of placid felicity or fearlessness. Alfred uttered not a word—he was too much shocked at the sad spectacle, to break a silence that appeared solemn and sacred. Selina noticed his embarrassment, and felt it her duty to terminate a scene that had betrayed her secret soul to him whom she tenderly loved. “M. De Rosann,”’ said she in a low voice, “ you must pardon and forget the events of this morning. It is useless for me to attempt to extenuate my folly by paltry excuses or subterfuges. Were I a child of sixteen or seventeen, I should probably think it in- cumbent upon me, and only consistent- with female delicacy, to deceive you as to the causes of my past emotions. but the age of frivolity has gone by: you have always treated me more asthe sensible woman, than the vain and coquetish girl: it is in the former light that 1 desire to be now regarded, and that I mean to express my sentiment. Listen for five minutes—lI shall not detain you long—and then let us drop a veil over the occurrences of this morning, henceforth and forever?’’ “Q! Selina—Miss Robson—have I then been the innocent cause of filling your heart with sorrow!” exclaimed our hero, tears running down his cheeks, for he could not contemplate the marble features of that once happy girl without emotion. “¢ Nay—Alfred—do not reproach yourself. I am alone to blame—and this confession of my weakness shall be my punishment. I have loved you, M. De Rosann—loved you from the first moment we met. Till I saw you, my heart had never known that pas- sion—and at first I was unaware of its presence, still less of its ravages. I loved you—and a thousand in- nocent familiarities, which your position, as an inti- mate friend to the family, allowed you to practice, were foolishly perverted by my disordered imagina- tion into proofs of a reciprocal regard. Did you press my hand by accident—did you call me by my Chris- COPMNICLOOOKSsCOunH