His Other Wife: A Novel — page 396: what you’re looking at

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

388 A MEETING. The remembrance of his warm, eager glances called a brighter tinge of color to her face as she entered the dim coolness of the azure-tinted chamber. The tall and grandly-proportioned form of her visitor was outlined before her against the light of a vailed win- dow at the end of the room, where he stood turning the leaves of a small portfolio of drawings. Faith had not taken many steps toward him when she e halted suddenly, and pressed her hands together, with a . low, startled exclamation. The visitor turned round, and, with one long stride, as it seemed, reached her side. ‘*My little Faith !” It was all he said, or could say. His hands were clasp- ing each of hers, and her cheek was leaning against his | arm, while she kept saying over and over, softly : “Oh, Mr. Warren! Mr. Warren! I am so glad—so glad !” He could tell by the panting movement of her bosom, and the low, sobbing sighs, that a great upheaval of joy was going on in the girl’s breast; but she did not cry, nor go into ecstasies. He led her in silence to a sofa, and sat down by her, still holding both of her hands, still feeling the warmth of her cheek pressed close to his arm. The old days had come back to her—she felt herself only a little child near this great, strong, quiet man. After awhile he put his hand under her chin and raised her face. It was calmer, but flushed with a great glad- Eomicbooks: (E(@) =|