The Widowed Bride — page 124: what you’re looking at

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

THE WIDOWED BRIDE BS smelling deliciously of sweet clover and dried rose leaves, - with curtains and drapery of snow-white homespun linen. ‘‘Do you think you shall like it?” said Mrs. Eskett, who had watched Alice’s face, as she surveyed her new domain. “Qh, so much!” the governess answered, and Mrs. Eskett put her arms round her neck and gave her a genial kiss, “T am so glad you are pretty,” said the rector’s wife. ‘‘J like to look at pretty things.” “Am I pretty?” asked Alice, confused, yet smiling—-and in the same instant the door opened. and a little head, thatched with hair the same reddish color as the fringe | _ overhanging the rector’s temples, peeped in. “‘May me come in, mamma?” piped a small voice. ‘Yes, come in, rebels,” said Mrs. Kskett, and the owner of the head ran into Alice’s arms. “‘l’m Phebe,” said she; ‘‘I’m ugly, but I can learn real quick. Emily i is pretty, but she can’t Say her multiplica- tion table. And Agnes is sullen, sometimes.” ‘“‘Hush—h—h!” said Mrs. Eskett, holding up a warning finger. ‘*Let Miss Percival discover the different character- istics of her pupils for herself.” And she introduced two girls of eight and nine, who proved to be the before-mentioned Emily and Agnes. Phebe, the frank little sprite of six, had spoken the truth; she was ‘“‘ugly,” as far as personal appearance went, with lizht blue eyes, and hair by courtesy called auburn, the very feminine double of the rector of regarvan,.while a tress of hair, called ‘‘cow lock,” stood straight up above her fore- head, utterly rebellious to hairbrush or pomatum pot, and her fair complexion was thickly sown with freckles. Emily, the next, was like her mother, regularly featured and comely, with hazel eyes and sunny brown hair, while Agnes, the eldest, was-a shy child, shrinking behind Mrs. EKskett, and scarcely lifting her eyes high enough for Miss Percival to perceive that they were of a deep, liquid gray, while her hair was nearly black, and her complexion as fresh as a wild rose. , ‘‘Now, children,” said Mrs. Eskett, when the ceremony of introduction had been duly performed, “run away and leave Miss Percival in peace for afew minutes to unpack her things and get ready for dinner. We are old-fashioned people, Miss Percival,” she added, with a pleasant smile, ECOomIcbookKs: co