The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 379: what you’re looking at

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

362 REYNOLDS’ WORKS induce her to continue her way than to make her retrace her steps. She entered the Regent’s Park, and in a short time drew near the mansion where she had passed the previous evening. She stood for a few moments gazing up at the baleony whence she had waved her handkerchief to Deveril, and as her heart swelled almost to bursting and the tears started from her eyes, she said to herself, “‘ Is it possible that within a few hours after making a declaration of love to Lady Saxondale he could have been guilty of such a hollow hypocrisy as to seek this spot in the hope of being enabled to catch a glimpse of me? But there is a strange, an unnatural contradiction in all this, and the longer I think of it, the more irresistibly am I led toward the conviction that William is true to me, and that Lady Saxondale has either been grievously mis- taken or guilty of a wilful misrepresentation.”’ Inspired by these thoughts, and cheered with the fervid hope that they would soon receive the fullest confirmation, Florina pursued her way in the direction of the pretty little villa where William Deveril dwelt. For during their conver- sation on the preceding day he had informed her of the place of his private abode, and as she was well acquainted with all the environs of the fashionable neighbourhood of the Regent’s Park, she had no difficulty in finding her way to the young artist’s dwelling. It was a small but neat and genteel residence, situated in a somewhat secluded spot, beyond the boundary of the Regent’s Park, and presenting a very picturesque appearance. As she came in sight of the villa, Florina felt her heart beat with quickening palpitations, and on reaching the iron railings which enclosed the front garden she was again seized with an access of hesitation and uncertainty whether to proceed. But she had come thus far, she had reached the place of destination, she had passed through the loneliness of the park, and should she now retreat at the very last moment? Should she tremble at the accomplishment of her purpose? No, her mind was speedily made up again. She opened the garden gate, and threading the gravel walk, which was embowered in evergreens, she advanced up to the front door. It stood open, for the evening was close and sultry. A lamp burned in the hall, but there were no lights in the front parlour on the ground floor. The casement of this room was CONNIE OO KS (E(0)