Gratia's Trials — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

ee at ce Een, ORL er eee & ee a4 Agr Me 2 a . re J ase “ os cS . ee GRATIA’S TRIALS. contrasting strangely with the wild, impulsive thrill of Gratia’s soft voice, ‘I always paid my way. I made a bunch o wax flowers for your ma’s center-table, worth twenty-five dollars at — the very least, and I gave you an elegant black silk gown, that hadn’t been in wear over five years. I dont consider myself anybody’s debtor.” Forlorn and miserable as she was, Gratia could scarely for- bear from smiling, as she remembered the tuft of damaged wax - flowers so graciously bestowed on Mrs. Kempfield by her visitor, after their shade had been overturned and broken, and the bou- quet itself too hopelessly bent and crushed to be of any market- able value ; and the dyed silk gown, worn threadbare, and cut in the gathers, which not even Mrs, Kempfield’s ingenuity could make into a useful garment. ‘‘T should not want to stay long,” said Gratia, meekly ; ‘only till I get a situation.” ‘‘Humph!” said Mrs. Homer, dryly. ‘‘Situations don’t grow, like blackberries, on every bush. Now you're beginning to cry again—dear me !” ‘“No,” said Gratia, courageously, wiping away the tears. ‘Do not be afraid, Mrs. Homer; I shall not make what you call a scene. Only I am so faint and weary! If I could lie down on the sofa a little while ‘ “Yes,” said Mrs. Homer; ‘‘and here comes Frances with the rolls. You'll feel better after you've eaten a bit.” Mrs. Homer’s niece, a tall, forbidding girl, with sandy hair frizzed, and curled, and chignoned to an extreme that seemed simply ludicrous in Gratia’s country eyes, had brought in three Small French rolls, wrapped in paper, and a tiny wedge of cheese, and with this insufficient meal Gratia was forced to be — content. ‘ The room was shabbily and scantily furnished, the window- — panes were clouded with dirt, and the tawdry gilt cornices laden with dust. There was but a morsel of fire in the rusty grate, comicbooks.co