Gratia's Trials — page 48: what you’re looking at

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

GRATIA’S TRIALS, 39 CHAPTER VIII. GRATIA CHOOSES FOR HERSELF. For a second or so there was a hush upon the three occupants of the room, and then Mrs. Kempfield exclaimed : ‘“Didn't I tell you so!” “Wal!” cried Joe Johnson, slapping one hand upon his thigh, ‘‘I wouldn’t a-believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself And she such a pretty, innocent-faced creatur, too-—wal, wal, there ain't no accountin’ for some things !” Kempfield himself had stood silent, staring on the folded bill, as if it were some venomous asp, coiled up and about to sting him. ‘Then he strode to the door, and called out, in the deep tone of suppressed rage : ‘*Gratia |” ‘‘Well, father ?” The girl came lightly up the stairs, but stopped in surprise on seeing that they were in. her room, instead of, as she sup- posed, searching that the peddler had occupied on the previous night. ‘‘What possessed you to do this thing, girl?” savagely de- manded Ira Kempfield. ‘‘What thing, father?” asked Gratia, looking at him, thor- oughly bewildered. ‘‘ What has happened? What are you all doing here ?” ‘‘Pon’t trifle with me!” almost shouted her father. ‘‘ You are a thief! You have stolen this money, and you have dared to face it out by falsehood.” ‘Father, what do you mean?” cried Gratia, pushing the hair back from her brow, and looking at him in surprise. ‘‘ I have touched no money.” ‘¢Then how came it here?” =) a (E(o) (e(o) > boo