Gratia's Trials — page 158: what you’re looking at

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

z G@RATIA’S TRIALS. 149 ““What are they?” Ida asked, lifting her heavy eyes to the other’s wan face. ‘“The pearls your Uncle Ralph gave to me for a wedding- gift. I wanted to return them to him, but he would not allow it. J cannot keep them now; every pearl seems like a tear shed over his grave. Oh, Ida,” she wailed, clasping her hands wildly together, . ‘‘and they dare to say that 7 murdered him !” ‘*Keep the pearls, Gratia; they are yours,” said Ida, in ac- cents of awe. ‘* Not for worlds !” Gratia exclaimed, passionately. ‘‘ Neither the pearls nor //zs,” tearing the diamond engagement-ring from her slender forefinger. ‘‘I can cherish his memory without the aid of outward signs or tokens. Leave me now, Ida; I must have a little solitude, to look my new future in the face and de- cide what step next to take.” ‘‘Where are you going, Gratia ?” ‘©T don’t know—anywhere, away from here.” ‘¢ But what will you do?” Gratia laughed hoarsely. ‘© T shall ve, Ida, I don’t doubt. Only the favored children of fate are taken—those who, like little Raymond, are dear to the angels,” ‘Have you got money ?” ‘‘Enough for all my present needs, Ida. No,” as the little girl hesitatingly drew out her tiny gold-beaded purse, ‘‘I want no more. I have a good wardrobe, thanks to your father’s generosity, and a little store of money. And when he comes back, darling,” she added, wistfully, ‘‘you will tell him how wrongfully they suspected me.” For Gratia had never felt until that moment how very dear Colonel Hugo Falconer’s good opinion was to her. ‘<T will, Gratiay I will!” the child answered, weeping passion- ately. ‘Oh, how cruel and unjust this world is! Why, why cannot Uncle Ralph speak from the other world and tell us who it was that killed him ?” Eomicbooks. co