Gratia's Trials — page 184: what you’re looking at

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

. GRATIA’S TRIALS. 175 ‘So that instead of keeping straight along the high-road to the London railway station, which the good folks at the White Hart Inn had supposed to be her destination, Gratia Kempfield turned off into the oak-shaded lane which led in the direction of Melworth Hall. Mrs. Hopwith, the same Benin: -faced old housekeeper who had shown them over the Hall when she had visited it in com- pany with the Pennilon family, was in her own special little — sanctum, and looked up as Gratia hesitatingly advanced. ‘*] beg your, pardon,” said Gratia, feeling hot, and tired, and confused, and wondering if she might venture to come into the cool room. ‘‘I only came up to inquire for Colonel Falconer. ” ‘‘Colonel Falconer?” the old lady repeated, slowly. ‘‘ Yes, yes, I remember now—the tall American gentleman, with the straight nose and the black eves. What of him, child?” ‘¢T would like to speak to him,” said Gratia, humbly. ‘‘That’s just what you cant do!” said Mrs. Hopwith, screw- ing the top onto the jar she was was filling with rose leaves. ‘« Why not ?” ‘‘ Because he isn’t here. He went to London, last Thursday three weeks ago. Dear me!” suddenly hurrying to the door, ‘‘why, the child has fainted dead away !” It was quite true. The heat and fatigue of her walk, the disappointment which greeted her at its close, and the weakness of her physical frame, so recently raised from the bed of illness, was too much for Gratia Kempfield, and she lay on the thres- hold, looking to the good housekeeper’s troubled and pitying eyes like a slender white lily, broken from its stalk. ‘‘Well,” cried Mrs. Hopwith, as she sprinkled the marble- pale brow with aromatic vinegar, and rubbed the hands of the prostrate girl, after she had with difficulty lifted her upon a settee which stood against the wall, ‘‘if she hain’t got forall the world just such a face as that picture in Miss Alicia's dressing-room, with the handkerchief twisted round its head—the Beatrice GEomicbooks.co in