Lady Evelyn — page 186: what you’re looking at

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

not many. The little actress made few intimacies. One or two of her female theatrical acquaintances, the - manager, a few of her convalescent hospital patients, her dressmaker, her music teacher—these were the chief. There were very many callers, very many cards left. Dashing young gentlemen drove up to the little front door by the dozen; but Madame Michaud’s shrewd, brown, nut-cracker face, always imperturbably good-humored, barred the entrance, and madame’s cheery French voice piped to these gay Lotharios ever but one refrain: “Mam ’selle is not at home, monsieur!” Mr. Vivian Trevannance could have told you all about P. » hy d +¢ “jee wit eee ors Beet’ Spots: ea eee eee Ss ee fe er * NO Wee Asko On) 2% eis We oe 53 See RR TG BOP OES POG Bogie AEN fu PO EO ARIST ak ech (ey ahdeag / Father i V ee Spe ran CET Lo en “179 an ; . vy ea a ny iy ; fe ie i ei f BS ! ; r ; ae her fairy eae and eieasined her friends. They were : a it. He had been there, you see, more than once or twice, ~ or two dozen times; but mam ‘seélle was never at home, al- though her laughing, roguish face could be seen spark- ling behind the lace curtains. In a low rocker, in her toy parlor, she lay back now, the bright morning sunlight streaming in between the curtains on the delicate carpet; her pretty soft curls, so black, so silky, pushed from her temples; the morning paper lying idly on her lap. It was a cozy little room, with its profusion of books and birds, and flowers and pictures. Loup lay crouched at her feet, looking up with big, loving eyes at ‘the face of his mistress. A fine and costly piano half filled the room. Minnette- practiced assiduously. She played brilliantly and sang — delightfully. Music was with her a passion. It was still not ten; but Minnette had been out, and, in her street-dress of black silk, a white band and knot of — rosy ribbon at her throat, she looked as much like a Rett nun as the dashing zouave queen of last night. “Ts lit true,” she was musing, with a very thoughtful hid brow, “or but a rumor, that he goes next week? He was in his usual place last night, but he threw me no flowers. __ I wish—I wish—I wish—I had never seen his face! How happy I used to be! And now—ah, bah!—and now I'm a little fool!” She opened her paper impatiently, glanced over its ae items, and was arrested in five minutes by one brief Hehe i ree Dal : , a 3 ‘¢ ad 4 ey H- ; "en Ne Pay a’ ‘ , v ; ; " Le . - as } f - : . , \ : __ . OER Ea CS mie bOOKS. * ee BS ie « yo cv Ml bl Lk P| rs ip fe PN a hes } V2 nae» .* - ‘