Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. 61 Without preface or warning the girl flung herself on her _snees beside me, and buried her face in her apron. “<T don’t believe it,” she sobbed violently. ‘I don’t be- lieve a word against dear, sweet Miss Isolina. Oh, Miss Iva, darling, don’t look go terribly quiet—hasn’t you cried any?” ‘*No,” I sighed, ‘‘ tears are denied to me; my heart is too stupefied yet. But I, too, know that my sister has done no wrong, and I thank you for your trust, my girl.” Sophie went out of the room with loud sobs, and I sat quietly looking into the fire and waiting for her return with my breakfast. Dut when it came, although I assured my- self it was my duty toeat, I could not. My thirst was burning, and my throat seemed to crack whenever I at- tempted to speak, yet I could not force down Sophie’s cup of tea, though fragrant as art could render it. I could not endure the girl’s anxious eyes, so I left the tray and went down into the still drawing-room. I restlessly wandered around the luxurious apartment; I read poetry and hummed an air which Isolina had often sung to me in the twilight hours. As the day wore to its close I grew wild with terror at my calmness and strove by every art to melt the fount of sorrow. Presently the door opened and Sophie came in through the gloom. <¢ Miss Iva, where are you ?” she whispered; the master has come home and wants you downstairs to eat something. He’s here waiting, miss.” I went out to the lighted hall and slipped my hot hand into his. ‘“ Papa,” I said, gently; “‘ you have left me a long time alone. Did you hear of her?” He did not answer but to draw my hand within his arm with a spasmodic grip; then he made me go down to the dining-room where dinner was laid as usual, only that my sister’s chair was set to the wall, and her place empty. My father did not place me at the table; he put my chilled form into a great easy-chair beside the fire, and brought a glass of wine to me, which I drank obediently ; then he made me eat, which I did with difficulty, for the ball in my throat almost choked me; but I was eager to give no trouble, so I managed it. ‘After eating a brief meal him- self, w hich I pityingly remarked was almost as small as mine, he left the table and took me “up stairs again, The COMICOOO S (©)