Lady Evelyn — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

be SHOU ‘soft Sparta eyes, Mishine’ up thet rare er 3 loveliness into a picture fit for Guido or Raphael. — aaa She, too, smiled languidly now and then at the Sashings young London barrister’s wit, as she trifled with the “a of a bird or her glass of rare old vintage. But he was no especial favorite of hers, this licht- eyed, light-haired, glib-tongued young man, and she rather i : avoided him, usually, ‘than otherwise. That night, long after the family had retired, the Lon- don barrister sat by his chamber window smoking, and — indolently surveying the starry heavens, as seen through , clouds of cavendish. He usually confined himself to the mildest Manilas. To-night he smoked a pipe, loaded to. its black muzzle—a sure sign of deep thinking and danger ahéad. “How lovely she looked to-night!” he thought, setting | . ; his strong teeth savagely on the stem of his pipe. ‘More | Habe beautiful than the Cenci herself! And to think — that e—that shallow-hgaded, conceited, overgrown bayer should win so glorious a-prize, whilst I By heaven and all its starry hosts, he shall not win! Not while my brain has power to plot, or my right hand cunning to work! What are they all—Rory, ‘Kathleen, the donna | herself—but puppets, who dance as J pull the strings? a ‘I have hated Rory Desmond, my handsome, high-born, princely cousin, ever since I have known what it was to envy or covet. Now the time to strike him from his high — estate has come, and | swear to-night that Donna d’Al- — varez and her regal fortune shall be mine, if | have to” walk over my rival’s dead body to reach her hand !” hig a He ground his teeth RI SIV EY: An instant after— " so strong had habit become—he laughed softly in de- rision of himself. “Such inflated language—such very bad ‘form’ fit ~ enly for the boards of the Princess. Bah! even the ven- } : detta has gone out in Corsica. We don’t go down to the foot-lights, like Macduff, and, with our eyes fixed on the chandelier and our sham swords SIAR swear eter- — a nal vengeance on our foe. No; we dont do that sort of — oa thing—bad taste! We smoke our Cubas, lift our hats | . to one another, and say little. But some fine morning — - eur Macbeth is pinked under the fifth rib, among the _ _ dewy grass and eae and LMonsienr Macduff’s wile ley FY ‘ ey ; 2 , < < e a ie toe 4 *, asf) + %~. = > nd “¥ 7 ** im z os r . 4 t ; Ae c by: — 5. aut § ; ‘ ny ah) TAO, 4 . * ‘ a y* . 7 . b | -, . *) st . ot bia . 2 Rites ab ech owe oe oe ie neon ae os eomicboo Ks. -om. - a? ¥ f ee Shy “ye a . ak ve rary ak tee Sh 4 yank & SHO iS LG oan ste . Shot AS ce re Sk Fae a < as Ae Ue ae ‘ ys 7 Xe rr . era ne eh ae te Ce: ue a wes on « at = Ba RADE bed mae ¥ en sh oe mi aS i