Angelina: Or, The Mystery of St. Mark's Abbey — page 227: what you’re looking at

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

214 ANGELINA; OR, *S Mother !—mether!" repeated our heroine. ‘‘ How that name agitates me. Oh, tell me, who was my mother, and why have 1 been so long separated from her, and left alene to your protection ?”” “s I have a long explanation to give you, my child,” said Sir Eustace, once more embracing her passionately, while Clifferd was so astonished at all he beard, that he was unable to utier a syllable, but stood gazing Grst at one, and then at the other, with an expression that may be imagined ;—“ but net now - safice it to say, that your mother has been the victim of cruelty and injustice, and that the blood of your .murdered father calls aloud for vengeance on his assassin. Matilda, Barosess de Morton, is the name of her who gave ,you beiag 1” Had an avalanche at that moment descended on the bead of Angelina, she could not have exhibited greater surprise than she did when Sir Eustace gave uiterance to these words. *S God ef Heaven !”’ she cried, “‘ can this be true ?—Ah ! I see it all new !— the terror and bebaviour of the baron is safficiently explained !i— But, eh! tell me, does my mother still live ?” “6 She dees,’ answered Lady Emmeline, “and in this very abbey, where she has been so long secluded, and watched that adered child she was afraid to acknowledge. She is even now close at hand, ready to clasp her daughter to ber bosom.”’ ‘‘ Ob, let me fly to her arms!’’ exclaimed Angelina, frantically ; ‘‘ do not keep me longer from that blessing 1 have never yet experienced! My mother !—Oh, what rapture is there in that sacred name. A tide of feelings rushes to my heart I have never experinced before! Oh, do not, pray, do sot, detain me!’’ ** But a few minutes, my dear girl,’ returned Sir Eustace ; “ and, pray calm the violence of your emotion, or your feelings will overpower you.” Angelina gasped for breath, but she could net speak, and sinking into a chair, she looked imploringly inte the countenances of Sir Eustace and his sister alternately. ‘6 Thie is wonderful!’ observed Clifford, *‘ but what is it that you would impart to me ?—I am certain that there is something in this that ——’’ “ Clifford!’ interrupted Lady Emmeline, with extreme emotion, while tears trembled in her eyes,—** Clifford,—you ever believed, at least, I so instructed you, that Captain Clifford was your father, and that I was only some distant relation ta you; bat it is not so. Oh, Clifferd, does not your heart tell you that there must be a nearer tie than that one to draw us together ?” ‘* For Heaven's sake be explicit,” gasped forth Clifferd, as a strange fere- boding flashed across his brain. ‘‘ Captain Clifford was in ne way related te you,” answered Lady Emme. line; ‘but he was a sincere and well-tried friend to me and mine ;—your father (I koow not if he still lives,) was Lord Edward Dalton, and your mother —— ‘6 Ah! what of her ?”’ ‘‘ She stands before you !—My son !—My darling boy |” Clifford was in a momedt locked in the arms of bis mother, and surprise, rapture, and a variety of feeling took from him all power of utterance. COMIC OOOKS. EO