Gratia's Trials — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

GRATIA’S TRIALS, od P ‘Quite so, maam,’ name is Gratia.” ‘““T’ dare say,” said Mrs. Moultrie, ‘‘but I shall call you Grace. I don’t like those three-volume novel names. Take her up into the nursery, Simmons, and don’t let me have any more trouble about it.” Simmons beckoned Gratia to follow her, and Mrs. Moultrie rustled back into the parlor, while the girl ascended the softly carpeted stairs, and passed through a long entry into a sort of back building. Here the external splendor seemed to cease. The next flight of stairs was uncarpeted, the bare white walls were finger-marked and dirty, and the light streamed through unwashed windows, guiltless of shade or drapery. While Gratia was wondering at this difference in general effect, a door was thrown open by Simmons, with the brief remark : ‘¢’ This is the nursery.” It was a large, dreary room, with a row of cribs along one side, a faded oil-cloth on the floor, and almost no furniture, save what was absolutely necessary. There were four or five little children in the room, but they were not playing, or shout- ing, as children ordinarily do. One was asleep in its crib— another lay stretched on the rug before the fire, sucking her thumb and gazing up at the ceiling with lack-luster eyes—the others were sitting on the floor, apparently busied in no partic- ular amusement or avocation. ‘‘Nurse, nurse,” cried one, as Simmons entered, ‘‘ won't you let Flora out? She’s cried, oh, so hatd.” Mrs. Simmons shook her head. ‘« She’s to stay in the dark closet till the naughty bears come to eat her up,” she said, austerely. ‘‘That’s what always hap- pens to little girls as says they don’t love Mrs. Moultrie,” The little boy crept nearer to his companion, with round, scared eyes. ‘‘Will the bears come in here, nurse?” ‘*'Ves, if I call ’em.” said Gratia, hesitatingly; ‘‘but my Eomicboo <S (e(@) ne