That Girl of Johnson's — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

82 THAT GIRL OF JOHNSON’S. ready the nurse drew up the table and placed it beside the fire, placing a chair for her. “Come, child,” she said, gently. The professional tone had left her voice utterly ; the girl . felt a sudden rush of tears that burned her eyelids. They were the first she had shed in her life so far as she remem- bered. She was almost frightened at herself as she arose to obey the kindly invitation. “Tt’s a dreary night,” the nurse said, cheerfully, taking no special notice of the girlapparently. “The fire brightens one like a merry face.” She poured out two cups of the tea and placed slices of the toast on a plate to carry into the bedroom when she saw the girl was slowly eating what had been placed before her. “Tam glad when I can have a fire,” she said, when she returned. “Ialways havea fire on stormy days if it is possible. My girl calls me Cinderella; I will tell you about my girl; I call her my sweetheart, her heart is so sweet. She has no mother.” Dolores had never known her mother save by what was told of her, and by stray scraps of delicate handwriting on the margins of her books; these latter she cherished as belonging solely to herself; no one else ever saw them ex- cepting Betsy Glenn. They showed her mother’s char- acter, and were as spoken words to her; her mother was very near to her at times with these words before her. Gomicbooks.com —