A Struggle for a Ring — page 255: what you’re looking at

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

A WIFE’S AGONY. 251 ‘*Nonsense, mother,” cried the soldier, springing from the caress of that white arm. ‘‘Nonsensé; do not believe one word of it. It is all fancy.” Whatever the fancy might have been, it touched him keenly, for, as he turned away, his lips were white and firmly pressed together. The earl came in then, followed by one or two others, and in the confusion Alice escaped quite unperceived. It was well for her that she did so; she could not have borne the tension of her nerves much longer. She has- tened back to her own room and flung herself on her knees, weeping wild, bitter tears, sobbing as though her heart would break, calling on Heaven to help her that she might bear it—bear it and live. The gentle, tender heart bled; it was the most cruel blow that could have been struck at her—cruel beyond all measure—not to know her! She could have forgiven him had he been angry, impatient, irritable—had he met her with reproaches— anything would have been better than this most cruel in- difference ; it seemed as though he had never once thought of her face since he left her, not knowing it now. The dinner-bell rang, and Alice knew that nothing” could excuse her from attending there—-she must go. The countess had no memory for names or dates; she wanted some one always at hand to whom she could appeal, and that some one must be Alice. _ “When did I hear from Lady Turtile, Miss Derwent? Who went to Rome with Nora Phillips, Miss Derwent? Who told me about the Morston marriage?” Alice was expected always to be clear and bright in her answers—to remember every date, every name, every inci- dent that occurred in her ladyship’s circle of friends; she never dared to absent herself from the dinner-table. On Gomicboo cS (Efe) = a ~y-* - er ns