Gratia's Trials — page 189: what you’re looking at

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

130 GRATIA’'S TRIALS. ‘‘Can you dress hair?” the old lady asked. ‘Ves ; why?” ‘‘Praised be Providence for that!” said the old house- keeper, devoutly. ‘‘ Marguerite, my lady's maid, went up to London by the morning express, and she was to be back by four at the latest, and here she hasn’t come yet, and there's a dinner party of five folks at seven, and no one to dress Miss Alicia’s hair. Do you think you could undertake it?” ‘‘T could try,’ said Gratia, smiling at the solemnity with which Mrs. Hopwith asked the question. ‘‘ There was a French cozffeur used to come every day to the house where I lived to dress the young ladies’ hair, and I used to watch him work, and then afterward try the effect on my own hair.” ‘‘Well, that is what I call good luck,” said Mrs. Hopwith. “‘Get yourself ready, and I'll take you up to Miss Alicia's rooms at once.” . | ‘*l am ready,” said Gratia, quietly. ‘‘Come then; I suppose there’s no time to lose, as well have to look out for some one else in case you:don't happen to suit my young lady.” Miss Hopwith led the way into Miss Alicia’s boudoir, where, upon a low divan, lounged the prettiest little fairy Gratia had ever looked upon—the self-same young beauty whose carriage had whirled Hugo Falconer away from her that sunny May afternoon. A full-grown woman, too, although modeled after the most exquisitely petite fashion—an elf-like creature, with great blue eyes, and scarlet lips, and a daintily grained complexion, like roses and snow, and a profusion of magnificent golden hair, which hung loose over her blue muslin wrapper. She looked up, a sweet, surprised look coming into her eyes, as Mrs. Hop- with executed an elaborate courtesy before her. ‘This is the young person, Miss Alicia, if you please.” Foolish Gratia! She felt the scarlet blood tide up into her cheeks at the eminently respectable epithet applied to her by Gomichooks.¢co