Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

68 BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. that it would have been as well for that poor little girl there if I had died in the Washington Hospital, instead of making believe to mend, and coming here to fall into a decline and swallow all her poor little earnings, and take the roof off her head.” ‘‘Oh, Charlie!” cried the poor young creature, springing to his pillow and burying her face in his neck, with a fond, gasping 80); ‘‘oh, don’t talk so—don’t leave. me, My own poor boy?” ‘Hush! hush, wife dear! we’ve been very happy in this bit of a home, even though it was you that worked, and me that was the lazy grub in the leaf. Pll be happier when I’ m commissioned to join the Blessed Army, Lucy love, that I spent my last furlough here with you. Hush, now, see, the lady, Heaven bless her, is distressed; and we are wasting her time. Run, now, my girl, while I speak to her.” When I could get back my composure, which in truth was somewhat shaken, I put the money which I had brought in the savings-bank I found on the mantel-piece, and drew off my gloves, as I asked 1f he would like any letters written. I was not mistaken; the wife went back to the one window and to her slipper-binding; the sick man beckoned me to bend closer, that he might whisper to me. ‘It’s about her, Lucy, that I’m so anxious,” he said; ‘¢who’ll take care of her when I’m done for, Heaven knows! She’s been used to comforts and kindness all her life, and how she’ll manage to battle all alone I can’t a-bear to think on’t. She has a brother—or had-—but though [ve never said so to her, I’m afraid poor Len Rosecraft’s knocked un- der. We’ve not heard from him since last year—he was a soldior of the Potomac, miss—when he wrote a letter which Luce got about the middle of November that he was slightly wounded, not lapped like me—only lamed with a gunshot, and as he wasn’t no use till he was better he had got leave of absence and was coming to the New York Hospital to be nursed near us; and he had a good bit of money, he said, as he was going to share with Lucy, (she’s his only sister, you know, and mighty kind he was to her); well, miss, he wrote that he’d be here by the last of the month, and, miss, by Heaven! we’ve never seen him yet! She thinks that maybe he changed his mind, and staid to be on hand when he got well, but I don’t believe it. Len was a man of his word, and why wouldn’t he write again if so? Now, CORNUCG OOO S (©)