Gratia's Trials — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

GRATIA’S TRIALS. 27 you and your precious little brother aren’t going to have your own way in everything.” ‘‘] admire the generosity and magnanimity of the game you are playing, madam,” said Gratia, in a voice of stifled bitterness. ‘‘I only wonder you are not afraid of being haunted by the ghost of that poor baby’s dead mother.” Mrs. Kempfield started, and looked uneasily round, as if she half expected to see some white spectral shadow hover- ing behind her. - It was plain that Gracia’s words smote upon some vulnerable spot in her armor of arrogance and _ selfish coldness. ‘‘Hold you tongue, miss!” she cried, tartly. ‘‘I won't | take any more of your impudence! You're too big to whip, more’s the pity, but I'll have you shut up in the garret for a week+on bread and water, if you dare to speak to me so again. Your father will do it, as quick as wink, if I tell him to!” Alas ! Gratia knew that her step-mother’s vaunt was but too true; and without a word, she turned toward the house. As she entered the door, the sound of low sobbing inet her ears. ‘¢ Where is Raymond, father?” she asked of Mr. Kempfield, who sat staring defiantly into the kitchen fire, with his hands on his knees. ‘¢T’ve locked him up in the lumber-room,” the farmer an- swered. ‘‘I ain’t goin’ to have this sort of thing going on no longer, and the sooner he understands it, the better for him !” Gratia felt, rather than saw, the malicious lightnings quiver in her step-mother’s eyes, as she silently passed her on her way up stairs to the lumber-room door, whence proceeded the mournful sounds of her little brother’s wailings. ‘‘Raymond, darling !’”” she whispered, kneeling on the floor, with her cheek close against the panels, ‘‘don’t cry so hard ; ’m here—Gratia. Tell me all about it, and don't sob so loud, ” Comicboo Ss) (e(e) =)