The Widowed Bride — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

THE WIDOWED BRIDE. => BB if was not trodden out in arid patches of clayey soil, was _-burned and yellow, and the high wall of gray stone that surrounded the building was devoid of vine, creeper, or aught that might tend to soften the stern angularity of its shape. “1 don’t like this house,” whispered Alice, clinging to Rena’s hand. ‘‘Let us go away from here, sister. It seems as if I couldn’t breathe in this place. But the appearance of the matron, a plump, good-natured little woman in black, who kissed the children, and cud- dled them close up to her, in a motherly sort of way, recon- ciled Alice to the high wall and dreary yard. “Poor little things,” said Mrs. Mar, glancing over the note which was handed in with the new comers. ‘‘Alice and Rena, eh! Sisters—yes, so I supposed; there’s a sort of a family likeness about the nose and mouth. Sir John sends em, does he! Well, Sir John’s a kind gentleman as ever lived. Come on, my dears, come in and see the other little girls.” ‘‘Are there many here, ma’am?” asked Rena, timidly. “Only three and thirty just now, but we generally have more at this season.’ She opened the door nt a large, low-ceiled room, with windows opening on the yard, where a number of sickly looking little girls were sitting, standing or running around. At the click of the door-latch they all stopped ‘in their re- spective occupations and stared at the new-comers. “This is the play-room,” said Mrs. Mar. ‘‘Run along, dears, and get acquainted.” She shut the door again and disappeared, as if taking it for granted that assimilation would be an easy task to the little strangers. But the girls all stood and gazed stead- fastly, circling round Alice and Rena, asa company of barn- yard fowls might stand and stare at a pair of curious foreign birds suddenly introduced into their domains. Rena returned ~ the gaze with interest, but Alice, more timid and less self- sustained, burst into tears. ‘‘What’s she a-cryin’ for?” demanded a tall, awkward girl of thirteen, touching Alice, as if half doubtful whether she were not made of sugar or glass. ‘‘None of your business,” answered Rena, succinctly. ‘Let her alone,” a (aol payicel exoKo) <3 (ee) nm 3