The Widowed Bride — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

THE WIDOWED BRIDE. JO “But how came it here?” persisted | Rena. “The young woman gave it to me.’ ‘‘T did not see her.” ‘“‘And she didn’t mean you should. She didn't let her dad see, either. It was all because of the fine husband I promised her. Ain’t that worth a cup, any day?” | Rena was not quite satisfied, but she had no reason to give for doubting any further. ‘hat the woman had stolen the mug, which had some value, she was certain, and she began to regret the rashness which had, as it were, given herself and her little sister up into the keeping and guid- ance of this unprincipled tramp. But Rena was but a child of nine years old after all, and lived more in the present than in the future—moreover, she had a child’s implicit trust that some way out of the troubled labyrinth would be provided. Tor the present she and Allie were quite in this woman’s power, but she was kind to them, after her rough fashion, and a poor protector was many degrees better than no protector at all. So Rena cast off all care and suspicion, and reveled in the glorious sunshine of the September day, with the elasticity that belonged to her years and temperament. ‘They were going to London, and to her London seemed a far-off fairy dream of splendor and luxury—a castle in the air, about to assume shape and reality. They must have walked twelve or fifteen miles that day —along quiet roads, sometimes exchanging words and greetings with the hop-pickers, sometimes pausing to rest In sheltered nooks, when Alice slept, her head pillowed among wild flowers and perfumed ferns, and Rena frolicked about, enjoying the novelty and beauty of all that surrounded her. Toward evening a passing teamster gave them a ‘‘lift” of two or three miles in his empty cart, which was a great re- lief, and they slept in a barn. “Ain't it nice, Allie?” cried Rena, clasping her little sis- ter close in her arms. ‘‘Wouldn’t you like to live so always?” ‘‘But the winter would come, Rena,” argued Alice, ‘‘and » then it would be cold and dreary.’ ‘To Rena it seemed as if she had been asleep half the night; in reality it had been but an hour or so, when she waked, roused probably by the rustling of the hay, and saw to her surprise and terror that the gipsy woman had not her covert beside Eomicbooks (e(0) m