A Silver Brand — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

st We RD. eee Bey t J A SILVER BRAND. | oe ak unpainted cottage at the end of the lane was the only home the girl remembered. The little homestead was owned by an honest, elderly couple, who lived in one-half the house and rented the other, only too willingly, to such quiet, respectable tenants as the mild, reserved old lady and her graceful granddaughter had proved. | They were sitting in the cool portico, chatting together over*the olden times; the two old ladies and Serena came upon -them unawares, but the moment her grandmother caught sight of her the aged face brightened with a tender glow, and she rose up quickly. “My Serena is home again, Mrs. Haynes.”’ ‘‘La sakes, Madam Peyron, so she is. And _ she brings the sunshine with her. Bless her two beautiful eyes. What a girl she is. Youdon’t know nothing about the trying, provoking, uneasy things that girls can be, Madame Peyron—no, you don’t. I don’t believe there was ever another like her.” The old lady—Madame Peyron—as the country people had grown to name her, out of a vague respect for the old- country courtliness. of manner that her new-world ex- “perience could not divest her of—looked toward the ad- vancing figure with proud, fond eyes, as she replied : ‘‘She is the blessing of my old age. While I have her I cannot sigh even for a grave in my native land.” By this time Serena had reached their pretty rustic re- treat. ‘‘Out in the cool resting? that-is comfortable !” she said. ‘‘Grandmother, dear, I hope you have conjured up some- thing exceedingly nice for me to make for your supper. Your chickebiddies have behaved so generously to us. Mrs. Haynes, I feel quite rich in the pantry, with very grand possibilities looming before me.” And alreadv she had taken off the thick gloves which protected her hands while rowing, and laid aside the linen mantle. | | “And how is the side-ache, grandma? You have not been a naughty, disobedient woman, I trust. You haven’t hemmed any more of that ruffling? I thought, after I was away, it would have been. wise in me to have © locked it up, then I could have skipped it over in the morning myself.” | ‘‘You have enough to do, my child,” said Madame Peyron, tenderly ; ‘‘but you make it all ight by your cheerful dis- position. I took a few stitches more, and it was no harm tome. Have you had a pleasant row ?” -Ccomichooks co