Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 204: what you’re looking at

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

BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. 199 have been better if you had not met me; it is so cruel to us both—this.”’ ‘No, no, no!” I cried, throwing my arms around her. “You shall not go! Not another word! Come in this very instant, my dear, and never harbor so mad a thought again, W here will you go, sister? Could you leave father and mother and sister, to break their hearts for ou?” ‘« Forbear!” she said, in a low, agonized voice: ‘‘my cross will kill me if you add another stab to my heart. Iva, fare- well?” She strove to free herself, but I held her with both hands, and would not be shaken off. «* Never!” I muttered; ‘‘I will make the place resound with my shrieks first; I ‘will not let you go!” ‘“‘T implore you to have mercy on me, Ivanillal” she breathed, tremblingly; “‘J am not strong, andI prayed Hea- ven to give me enough strength to do this sacred duty. As you love me, let me go.’ «¢ Will you see Dr. “Pemberton first?” I sobbed. «No, no! He does not know!” she answered, piteously. “Can you leave our dear mamma, unwelcomed back to lifer?’ was my next appeal; ‘“‘that wretch poisoned her, Tsolina!”’ ~ «T know—I know. My life shall be between this family and danger in future. Fear that wretch no longer; she and hers have wronged you cruelly; all is past now.’ Her face was frightfully pale, her breath struggled on her lip, her hands grasped wildly at the air. “If ever you loved poor hapless Isolina,” she gasped once more, ‘‘let her go and do her duty.” Ah, hour of sorrow! my arms dropped from about her; I ceased to importune. Her duty! who was I, to interpose? ‘Let us meet in heaven,” she whispered; ‘tell our saintly mother that I loved her truly, Ivanilla—little sis- ter I cannot thank you for what you have done for me. Sweet darling—a long good-by. Oh, my own little Iva, good-by.” She pressed mein her arms, her tears broke forth; her bosom swelled tumultuously; bitter was the parting there. ‘And our father—what for him?” I said, remembering how dear these words would be to each heart. «A prayer—and my forgiveness!” was the answer. She COMICOOO S (©)