Gratia's Trials — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

GRATIA’S TRIALS. 31 was felling trees, thoroughly convinced that little Raymond was in the best of hands. | But as noon approached the child grew worse, and Gratia vainly implored his step-mother to allow her to send for one of the Playfairs, since she would not listen to the idea of summon- ing medical aid. ‘“Nonsense !” cried Mrs. Kempfield ; ‘‘ you act like a mad fool. See—he is better now.” Little Raymond, waking from a: brief sleep, started and shrank at the sound of his step-mother’s voice. ‘*Gratia | Gratia !” he strove to enunciate, vainly trying, by thrusting his finger into his mouth, to clear away the fatal ob- struction to his speech. ‘‘ Don't let it choke me, sister !” Gratia sprang to the opposite window, and, throwing it open, called to a little boy on the door-step opposite : ‘¢Charlie! Charlie Playfair! run for the doctor as fast as you can, and tell him to come here at once! Do you hear me?— at once!” Then, as Charlie Playfair sped down the road, as fleetly as only a boy of twelve, lithe and lean as a fox, can run, she drew down the sash and confronted her father’s wife. ‘*Woman!” she cried, ‘‘if—if this little darling dies, it will be because of you. Hush! doyou hear how hard he breathes ? Raymond! Raymond! look up—speak tome! Almira Bas- sett!” she uttered, in a tone of voice that was almost a shriek, ‘<if he dies, I will denounce you as a murderess !” The cup Mrs. Kempfield was holding fell to the floor, shat- tering into a score of pieces, her lips grew white, and she started and glanced round as if Gratia were addressing a crowd behind her. One instant she stood silent, panting like an enraged ani- mal; then she spoke in a smothered voice, as if the cords of her throat were drawn up by intense passion : ‘‘Gratia Kempfield, I swear I'll be revenged on you for that } 77 word Gomicboo (e(@) cS 3