Penny Dreadfuls, 1887 · page 254 of 267
Bonny Jean, and A Severe Threat — page 254: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1887. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
* - as --. io r all * ie Legh; ay ; ° — Oe ga ee ne i ee Sh | oe fe ” , day. “ies of F sat * at Sha We . A be adres Val ae Be . ee "<1 vn he fe on. ee ae Sey SA Fiat be ei St ee ~ sa os fat NELOLEy LE as MRR Meg |) Lt GL May UY Gy WEY Ty Ne, SONG Wa gp tS a ey Soy AP A f a at Vig Ml rs! } =) - im > “ie : 7 AO | i” <7 ae * t. 7 me f ‘ad oe v3 ‘ a A SEVERE THREAT. 247 quired considerable arguing to bring Dot over to their side of the question; but at last all difficulties were overcome, and one evening the Dexter party, with Dot Wylde, entered a cer- tain church in a retired part of London, And when they emerged, not long after, there was no longer any Dot Wylde, but a demure-looking little person, who, henceforth, would answer to the name of Mrs. Halton Dexter. The next day the party started for Waltham. Dot was full of joy at the prospect of seeing Lola once more ; yet there were grave misgivings in her heart. - For she had received no letter, no tidings from her friend in many days; and as Lola had hitherto been a prompt correspondent, Dot feared that she might be ill. -~But all fears, all unpleasant thoughts were dis- missed now as the train flew onward. Dot remembered only that she was with the man she loved, her own husband. She was sincerely grieved to observe Kitties pallor, and the quiet manner, which proved more plainly than words could have done how the shait had struck home, and the arrow of sorrow rankled in the girl's pure heart. But Kittie had cruci- fied self. She had put away her own love, her own wishes, and thought only of the happiness of others. And, after all, this is the only true life to live. And believing this, Kittie unselfishly dedicated her future to the welfare of those about her. The train sped onward, and at length steamed into Waltham. It was nearly sunset of a lovely day. The quaint old town lay bathed in the golden glory of the dying sunbeams; every church-spire was tipped with gold, and the long yellow gleams rested upon the white tombs in the old grave-yard. ‘They fell athwart the group which was just entering its opening gates, a solemn little procession with bowed heads. ‘¢A funeral !” exclaimed Hal, solemnly. ‘‘I wonder whose it can be.” ‘None of our friends, I trust,” returned Dot, with unusuat gravitv. ‘‘Oh, Hal!” and she paused in wild alarm, catching her husband’s arm with both hands in sheer desperation, ‘‘ what—what—if it should be Lola?” ‘Some one would have written or telegraphed to you, my darling,” he answered, ‘‘be sure of that. Wait. There (oh, I wish Kitty were not here with us), there is Howard, and— and his wife, I believe. And—see, Dot, who is that beautiful lady ?” But Dot did not hear a word. She had darted forward with Eomichooks (e(@) =)