Angelina: Or, The Mystery of St. Mark's Abbey — page 147: what you’re looking at

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

134 " ANGELINA; OR, wounded pride suffused her cheek, and her heart swelled with thé anguish which that thought excited. Mr. Woodfield looked at her with apparent surprise for a moment or two, and then in tones expressive of enthusiastic pride, he answered :— . “* Angelina, the child of shame, oh, no! no !—virtue and but I dare not trust myself to say more, and oh, Angelina, however strange and inconsisient my conduct may appear at present, do not, I intreat yeu, do not interrogate me further. Fear not,—there will be a time come when you shall know all.” Our heroine sighed deeply, and clasping her hands vehemently together, raised her eyes towards heaven, as if praying that the words of her uncle might be realized. She said no more, but absorbed entirely in her own agonizing thoughts, leaning on Mr. Woodfield’s arm, walked slowly towards the cottage. F. What pangs, what racking torments filled the bosom of Angelina, as alone in her chamber, she reflected upon the awful occurrences of the day, and upon the inscrutable mystery by which she was surrounded. . ** Oh, God!” she cried, ** what a strange, what a terrible fate is mine ; thus to be jrerpetually tormented with doubts, fears, and perplexing surmises, Alas! why was I not always kept in ignorance of my being any other than the poor cottager’s niece? Why partially withdraw the veil from bcfure my eyes, merely as it would seem to make mie wretched ?—Clifford, too, he whom my heart acknowledges its master; he, my first, my only love, even he am I forbidden to think upon, save with the cold sentiment of friendship !—Oh, the horror of that thought! Forget you, Clifford!—There is death in the idea !—But it must be ;—I am commanded from the grave to do so;—I am told that nature forbids our union, and shall J dare to disobey ? dear Clifford ; —for in spite of all, ever dear must you be to me ;—we must mect no more !” While sobs choked her utterance, the poor girl took from her bosom the trea- sured miniature, and gazed with a feeling of the most intense sorrow and rapture upon it. ‘** Dear, dear resemblance,” she ejaculated, ** you seem to reproach me for that decision, but oh, could you read my heart, then would you know the torture Tam enduring ; how strongly your image in engraven there !—But am Y not doing wrong by retaining this bauble, which so vividly brings to my reeollection the object I am commanded to furget?—Alas! can 1 part from it—it is the only memento I have of one who No, no, I cannot, f will net resign it !” She sobbed convulsively, as she raised the miniature to her lips and kissed it vehemently again and again, then sinking on her knees, with clasped hands, and upraised eyes, she added ;— | ‘© Almighty Father, into thy hands I commit myself; be thou my guide, and direct me to do that of which my own conscience may afterwards approve.” \ \ The entrance of Laura aroused her, and arising from her knees, she listened with gratitude to the words of consolation which the former endeavoured to impart to her. But alas! the good intentions of the affectionate Laura were entirely without having the desired effect; the grief of Angelina was too powerful to be easily removed, and time alone, if anything, could cffect that object. | | ‘Well, I always said that gloomy old abbey was haunted,” observed ECOMmicoOokKs @ (CO)