Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 193: what you’re looking at

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

188 BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. gloves on the stand, and went into the room which I pointed out. ‘“‘There’s no one here,” he said, reappearing. Mrs. Haller opened my mother’s bedroom door and looked along the hall; he instantly approached her. ‘< Where are the patients, ma’am?” ‘<Here, sir—both in one bed,” moaned the old woman, raising her hands. He entered, and, like a spiritless child, I kept by his side. My mother’s deep breathing filled the room; her face had become very pale, and somewhat drawn. My sister lay beside her as stiff and moveless as a figure shaped in clay. The doctor went first to her, and bent over her for a full moment. An expression of profound dismay was on his countenance when he looked up again. ‘¢Ts this Isolina?” he exclaimed. I assented. JT should not have known her,” he muttered, almost sternly. ‘Oh, poor girl?” | He examined her pulse, laid his ear on her heart, and felt her temples; then he bent down until his face almost touched her breathless lips. After this he went round to my mother. In an instant he had seized her hand and was poring over it; it was now swollen and almost livid. ‘¢ How long has she been asleep?” he asked. ‘Nearly an hour and a half.” “Humph! What’s this? poultice? stuff! That’s right, my girl; put the medicine-chest down here, and be legs for me. Now, Miss Ivanilla,” he took my hand and led me to the door. ‘‘You are to get out of this and go to your own room, wherever that is, and do exactly what you’re told, and nothing else. Don’t look so despairing, child; Ill tell you a bit of news to take away with you. I can’t find any traces of poison about your sister, and it’s not too late to save your mother, though the danger is great. There! I knew that would fill these dry little eyes with tears; go away now and cry, and then lie down and rest yourself a long while.” He pushed me away with gentle firmness, but still I clung to him in my newborn faith and trust. ‘‘ Qh, sir,” I sobbed, ‘‘tell me who it is that has come COMICOOO S (©)