The Boy Soldier; Or, Garibaldi's Young Captain — page 201: what you’re looking at

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

THE BOY SOLDIER; OR, GARIBALDI’S YOUNG CAPTAIN. 195 eo a ortiso4d In truth, he had patiently waited. until the old - gentleman had gone.out, and. then, he ; boldly. went up to: the hotel; and, since he. could not see the father, he asked to see the daughter. Nelly, beautiful as ever, but looking rather pale, melancholy, and thoughtful, received.the message for her father, and, as the detective was descending _ the stairs, she discovered on her own writing-desk a letter, which was directed— . af Miss ELLEN LANCASTER. a. Personal and Private.” “What can this mean ?” thought the lashing maid, as she toyed with it. ‘‘ Oh, I suppose it is a billet from some love-sick count, marquis, or duke, _asusual. All they admire me for is my father’s money.” She. was about to. toss it into the fire, when a second thought,struck her. “The handwriting seems familiar,” she eteeed: “| have seen it before, some where—yes, but where ? The hand. seems somewhat disguised. Who can it be from?” ‘ 412 J She seated herself in an arm chair, onl opened the letter. Directly she saw the interior of the note, her face became deadly pale, as she whispered to herself—- : “Tt is from Frank !”’ ' For some minutes she could not—she dared not attempt to read it. She tried, but the tears flowed to Het eyes areely and blindéd her vision. ‘With ‘haste she. went to her own chamber, and there, in strict privacy, she locked the door, kissed the letter times and times again, and read it through and through. | It ran thus :— ‘‘DEAR NELLY,—Ere you read this, I shall be many miles away upon the briny ocean, bent on seeking fame’and fortune in a land far more distant, and filled with more dangers and adventure than the sunny clime of Italy. ** You have heard of that sad occurrence between myself and the late Marquis de Sangri. ** Believe me, Nelly, the quarrel was not of my own seeking. It was the doing of your father in the first instance; and, although I went forth to do battle formy own honour, it was no less the love I bear you that steeled my hand and heart to do that dreadful deed. “Nelly, you know not how much I ‘have loved you through- out my whole life; whether in school at Bromley Hall, or inthe tented field, you have ever been my guiding star of. "love and hope. | ‘* Your father: hates zie because I am poor; but, Nelly, ead does not make the heart, or control its longings and beatings. Were you poor, and I rich, T should love you all the same, and far more intensely than even I do now. ** But the world tells me, Nelly, that you, too, have grown cold and heartless, and that the name of ‘ Frank, no longer escapes your lips. * Be it so, fairone! - ‘* May honour and happiness accompany you bi is nty earnest prayer. But,remember! the time may come, and that, per- haps, at no distant day, when you may learn to love and prize the heart you now so coldly despise. ‘** Your faithful lover, and always “FRANK FORD.” Had a dagger pierced young’ Nelly’s ‘heart it could not haye caused her more intense and acute agony than did the perusal of the braye young soldier’s letter, ‘He loves me. still,” sighed ,Nelly, with Pion ing, eyes... “Oh, Frank; did you know -me,as, I know myself, you would never accuse me of he gebting or despising you, ‘Then, all the stories I haye heard fromm the Stes of Joel, Flint .and,De,Sangri about. Agnese,, the bandit’s daughter, are untrue,” she thought, at last, as she sighed heavily. “ My‘heart told me that those rumours were false, I Ean thes were ; his fan look, actions, words, all told, me so, and yet I would not believe it, Oh, poor heart, how hast thon been deceived—aye, cruelly deceived. As thus.she spoke, she dried her-tears, and a red, angr y flush mantled her beautiful cheeks. EBT have played upon me,”. Nelly, sighed, T must be. ze) woman, and no longer a girl, Iwill play upon them in return.” Surrounded as Nelly Lancaster. had ‘always been - (since she started on her travels with her father, the old banker) by persons of title only, she knew and heard but. little of what was really taking place in the great world around her. . Old Lancaster was a plebian, and had raised himself from nothing ; but now that he was rich he had ‘“‘ great designs” for his daughter. . In other words, he,,when young, had married from love, but he had made up his mind that young girls with for tunes had no right to look after such an.article as love in matrimony. Tf Nelly could only marry a duke, or a lord, or a marquis, all would be well, but that she could and should actually east her eyes upon a friendless youth like Frank Ford seemed. madness in his mind, and he could not entertain the thought for a single moment. But we are not made as others would wish us. We have hearts and minds of our own,, And if fg had married for love alone in Ais hey- day of youth, it was more than possible that Nelly would make up her mind ‘to do the same. ' “For, what are all the titled persons around me?” she often thought. “They are called counts and barons and dukes, and such like, but they are.all like painted dolls ; they do not like me for myself, they, only .covet my. father’s wealth, and, in ex- change, would give me a faithless, worthless heart, and.a lifetime of misery.” Such, however, was a destiny that Nelly Lan- caster. little cared about or feared. __“T would rather be a farmer’s wife,” she thought, : if he loved me, than all these painted, decorated, heartless people around me,” _,And the more she thus thought, the more her heart yearned to meet Frank once more. But he loved another, she was told. She could not—she would not believe it, .,. ~ Did not his manly letter give the lie direct to all the falsehoods she had heard about. him:? Was he not young, handsome, braye and falented ? And more than all, had he not loved. her all his life ? This thought was too much for het felines... She sunk her head upon her heaving bosom and wept... “He is, now far away on the ocean,” she thought ; “it is impossible for me to meet him again, perhaps for, years. Cruel, cruel youth !” she sobbed, “Why not have told me the whole truth before?” ~~ CHAPTER LXXVIIL IN WHICH MATRIMONY IS SPOKEN OF—PROPOSALS FOR NELLY LANCASTER’S HAND—NELLY, LIKE A TRUE YOUNG WOMAN, OHOOSES FOR HERSELF, WHILE the daughter thus wept in her chamber a curious scene was. going on in the Crayne ROM: of which Nelly never dreamed. | Mr. Lancaster was talking toa cream chine emer Italian fop, who, to his family name, had appended half a dozen titles, MICLOO (S@