Gratia's Trials — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

GRATIA’S TRIALS. 21 ‘Is she going to stay here all winter, father?” asked Gratia, in despairing accents. ‘Why shouldn't she?” said Mr. Kempfield, striking the blaz- ing log with the poker, so as to send showers of bright sparks up the chimney. But he did not look his daughter in the face. ““And you'll be wanted to help round.” ‘“ But before and after school I could do a great deal, father,” urged Gratia. ‘* You've just got to be contented as you be,” said Mr. Kemp- field. .‘‘ Almira says you're old enough to be as much use as a woman, if you only had a mind to. And Almira calcu- lates i ‘<7 don't want to hear what she says, father,” said Gratia, bit- ing her lips. ‘‘I ask your permission.” ‘* Well, you won't get it,’ said Mr. Kempfield, with asperity. ‘“And see here, Gracia, youve got to behave different to Al- mira Bassett.” ‘‘ Has she been complaining to you, father ?” ‘“N-no ; I’ve got eyes and ears of my own. You don’t treat her decent. You'd ought to know that she stands in a mother’s 3 place to you, and -—— But Gratia started up, hot and panting. ‘No, father, not #Aa¢/ Never sAat/ No one ever can stand in er place, least of alla mean, meddlesome, intriguing old maid like Almira Bassett. JI owe her neither love nor respect.” Mr. Kempfield dropped his poker, and stood aghast. ‘Then, without a word of comment, he uttered a low, long whistle, and left the room. Gratia Kempfield staid patiently at home the next day, to look after the late tea-dinner. Little Raymond was ill and feverish —he had overeaten of cake and candy during a visit to the vil- lage with Almira Bassett the day previous—and he, too, had to be taken care of, so that his sister’s Sunday was by no means a day of rest. After dinner she made her usual pilgrimage to her mother’s grave with a single pink rosebud, gathered from the (EA AICEl exeve) cS (ee) =)