Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

' ,« oN a4 L ae Se « af _ lag a a . 4 ; , ‘ . . c , : | . y ty iad ; i ; ah. ip =~ . hd 5 a a . q * wo >> Py ¥ , nt asd 7%, i) me SS ls . - “a -. © i | The Reaqueting: g Hero, - Riss ae g 5 “Fetella v was Sissincds“theotres, operas, and all that, were hold their splendors and enchantments with her own eyes. She passed that night and all next day in a fever of expecta- 3 tion, and when the hour came to dress, took more pains with = her toilet than she had ever taken before in her life. “Will I do, Aunt Helen?’ she asked, with sparkling eyes. Aunt Helen’s own eyes lit: up almost as brightly as the _. girl’s as she surveyed her. “Tittle Coneceit! look in the glass! You know Haiks as well as I do how pretty you are. Ah! why won’t Alwyn -~~hurry, and be dazzled by my brown-eyed darling 2” Estella laughed and shook out her summery robes. Yes, Ae teh | _ ghe was looking pretty—very, very pretty in her blue silk. dress, her white opera-cloak, and coquettish little white hat and blue plume. Very pretty, with all her gold-brown ring- _ lets falling in shining shower to her waist—her eyes full of it, and smiled brightly back at her own image. | “T am glad your little countrified niece won’t disgrace - and elegant, my handsome auntie, so where is the use of tell- ing you you are both now? Ah, what a change a few weeks - ago when I was moped~ to death at Fisher’s Folly, lke | Mariana in her ‘Moated Grange,’ that to-night I would be Sune to the Boston Theatre to see Edwin Booth—robed in a ‘silk and lace—I would no more have believed it than I could __ have believed in the fabulous tale of Cinderella.” Laie “Very likely, my dear, and this is but the beginning. se Wait until you make your début, and it is the theatre, the } opera, and two or three parties each night, over and over again. IT foresee that my little girl is going to be the belle _ of the season.” oe They were rattling along in the carriage over the tortuous eo ec ts of Boston, and Estelle was gazing delightedly out of window. To her the brilliantly lighted stores, the crowd- sat ed sidewalks, the bustle and life, were a never-ceasing delight. “Tt is like a tale of enchantment, ” she said, dreamily; “I - ean’t quite realize it. Sometimes I grow almost afraid—such _ppines cannot last.” - Miss Mallory smiled indulgently. The carriage stopped— a ‘moment later they were being shown to their box by the al pBeqUACUS, usher. Of course the theatre was crowded—was j % Booth playing ?—and the orchestra was crashing out some ) rs wee th deafening overture as they took their places. The SS € AaDsIe, the vast Recidar nice The little country. girl s, the i “like the fabled glories of the Arabian Nights to her—some- - thing to dream of and wonder over. And now she was to be-. 7 light, her cheeks like June roses. And the little witch 3 _ you, Aunt Helen. And you—but then you always look stately - have made in my life! If any one had told me three months he ~~ - - : mmm * : Lam abit = Set “Ccomicbooks:co