A Silver Brand — page 290: what you’re looking at

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

282 A SILVER BRAND. may be myself in disgrace, for if such a thing could have been done I should yesterday have exerted all my power to snatch this innocent young girl from the hands of the prince, But he is dead now. And I trust her claim as the daughter of the baron is in no danger of dispute.” “Tina,” cried out Penelope Foss, sharply, “do you love this new-found mother? Will it be a sore trial to give up this grand house ?” | “What do you mean, Auntie Pen. How wild your eyes look !” ‘Shall I speak the truth? Heaven’s solemn truth here before these people,” demanded Penelope, catching both the girl’s hands and holding them so fiercely Lina shrank back. But she looked earnestly into the worn, haggard face, and answered, bravely : “Tes, Auntie Pen, speak the whole truth.” “Amen!” echoed Nat’s voice, as he bent forward and peered into Penelope’s face as if to read her very soul. “Then I will do it,” spoke Penelope, low and solemnly. “The lady yonder may be the Baroness Pauline. She looks like the portraits, and more like one I knew better— her kinsman, Konrad Darn, but you are not her child. You are no Schwarzenberg, Lina. Oh, my darling, have ‘pity if you can, and not kill me with your anger and.dis- appointment: For I, poor wretched, forlorn Penelope, am your mother.” . Paul Foss leaped forward and shook her fiercely. “You are crazed, Penelope, as Theodosia always said you would be. Have we not taken care of her from a very babe. Does ‘she not bear the mark—the stamp of Schwarzenberg’s Silver Brand? How can there be a mistake ?” | | “You are innocent, Paul,” returned she, meekly. ‘‘You are all innocent of the cheat—I alone am to blame. Listen, and you will understand. You know my wild ways asa girl, and the strict, hard hand my father and Theodosia, his model, kept upon me. How could it be otherwise than natural that, when I went away to my indulgent, ease- loving aunt’s, I should fall into trouble. I loved and mar- ried a young student in the university near—loved and married him all in secret, and in my giddy mind, thought it a fine jest to astonish Theodosia with until that terrible day when I was called home to my father’s dying bed, and made to kneel with the rest of you, and swear sol- emnly never to marry until the trust bequeathed to the Eomicbooks (Elo)