Her Faithful Knight — page 159: what you’re looking at

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

Passion and Poetry. 155 remaining all day penned up within her small, cheerless lodgings, bending over her painting, while the other niem- bers of the company enjoyed themselves on the pier, sands and sea. Now and then, as she raised her aching head, saw the bright sunshine flooding the streets outside, and heard the song of the birds and the laughter of passing merry- makers, a little bitterness would creep into her heart. She was only twenty, and, in spite of a life of fatigue and an anchorite’s diet, the young blood in her veins sometimes leaped and sprang with longing for a little gaiety, a little sunshine, a little love. | Then she would seize her brush in a fit of remorse at her own selfishness. What were her trifling disappoint- ments and worries compared with her sister’s ruined life and broken heart? At the end of the third week a letter came from Nurse Rose that filled her with the deepest anxiety. “Mrs. Trevelyan is still alive,” wrote the nurse, “and with the greatest care she may yet be saved. Pray don’t think of coming to see her at present. I will telegraph should she take a turn for the worse. Above everything, Mrs. Trevelyan must be kept perfectly quiet. The doctor will not allow Mrs. Cresswell to enter the room, as she has a habit of sobbing, which might disturb the patient. You may rely on me to do all that can be done. Should all go well, I hope to send for you in about a week’s time.” Eomichoo “S (E@)