Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 145: what you’re looking at

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

140 BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. told me that the Queen of Hearts had vanquished one and was about to celebrate the victory!” ‘¢ Hydra-head ?” ‘Sister Lu, then,” explained the mad-cap, turning round in the middle of her piece; ‘“‘she said that Miss Iva was about to be united to—‘ one—a lone one *mid the throng ’— Mr. Lindhurst.” ‘« And so she is!” said Isolina, holding my hand fondly; ‘and she will be as happy as a little queen, I am sure, with him.” ‘* Bravo!” cried Miss Belle, catching my other hand in de- light; “I’m glad Mrs. Grundy was right for once! My two ideals—vyou little gipsy, don’t blush so charmingly. Logk, Isolina! oh, kiss her—the pet, and may I kiss you, too—for con gratulations: e? This half-absurd, half-touching embrace being over, Miss Belle seated herself at my mother’s feet, leaving me still fondly held by Isolina. «And so I have come to bid you good-by,” resumed the young lady, with a sigh, ‘* you dear old friend whom I have scarcely seen yet. Do you know Iva, that I know Mrs. Rienzi far better than her youngest daughter does?” ‘“¢ Indeed!” ‘*Ah, you may look jealous! I have enjoyed her friend- ship ever since’I was an unfortunate little wretch of six, staggering along every morning to school with a load of books as high as myself—ah, happy childhood! Your dear mamma scraped up a street acquaintance with me on the happy occasion of my running against her carriage in a hurry, and breaking my nose against the front wheel, while my books flew in at the carriage windows, for which I was treated to a ride home, a week of holidays, and a beautiful wax doll from my new friend.” “T dont think you enjoyed your first ride with me, much,” observed my mother, laughing. “«T can’t say that it was bliss unalloyed,” admitted Belle. ‘“‘T believe I was a little terrified by the shadow cf my swelled nose on the carriage curtain, and shed more tears than smiles. Ah, me, ° ‘My dreams come o’er me like a spell, I think I am again a child.’ ‘¢T say, Ivanilla, what shall we do to. bring back the light CORNUCG OOO S (©)