Gratia's Trials — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

GRATIA’S TRIALS. . 9 Kempfield, or, as sure as I sit here, I'll give you something to fret for! Do you hear? Lie down !” Mrs. Kempfield sank down in the bed with a quick, appre- hensive movement. ‘But, Almira,” she ventured after a minute or two of silence, ‘‘she is my daughter.” ‘No need to tell me that,” said Almira, shrdgnine her shoulders derisively. ‘‘ You’re as like as two peas. I’d just like to have the training of her—and I will have it, too, after youre out of the way. Here’s your draught—take it now, and let's have no fiddle-faddling !” ‘‘Tt is not time yet—for an hour.” “Take it, or Ill pour it down your throat!” snapped Miss Bassett. ‘‘It’s my time, anyhow. I’m not going to be waked out of a peagsin) nap to give it to you, by and by, when the fit takes you.’ | Mrs. Kempfield swallowed the nauseous dose in - meek sub- missiveness. ‘It is bitter—so bitter!” she said, shuddering. ‘‘It doesn’t taste like the other cranes, i ‘Suppose it doesn't,” said the old maid, indifferently, ‘‘ who do you suppose is going to be responsible for your capricious- ness? It zs the same, and that’s enough for you to know.” ‘Can't I have a little swallow of water?” asked Mrs. Kemp- “field. ‘‘It tastes like gall in my throat.” “No, you can’t,” said Almira, who had just established her- self in the comfortable arm-chair by the fire, with her feet on a footstool. ‘I’ve sat down, and I sha’n’t move for any one. I guess you'll keep !” As she spoke she reached up to the mantel above fora little _ bottle half full of some dark fluid, labeled ‘‘laudanum,” with a quick, guilty glance around the room, and deposited it safely in the depths of her large pocket. Mrs. arkeaes feebly wringing her thin, emaciated hands, Gomicboo (ale) =)