BROWNIE’S TRIUMPH _By_ MRS. GEORGIE SHELDON AUTHOR OF “Nora,” “Trixy,” “Earle Wayne’s Nobility,” “Stella Rosevelt,” “Virgie’s Inheritance,” “His Heart’s Queen,” Etc. [Illustration: Logo] A. L. BURT COMPANY PUBLISHERS NEW YORK Copyright 1879, 1880, 1881, 1901 By STREET & SMITH Renewal Granted to Mrs. Georgie Sheldon Downs 1907 BROWNIE’S TRIUMPH BROWNIE’S TRIUMPH CHAPTER I AN ENCOUNTER “Brownie! Brownie Douglas, wait a moment.” Time—three o’clock in the afternoon of the 5th of September, 1876. Place—vestibule of the Memorial Hall, at the World’s Centennial Exposition, Philadelphia, when all the world did literally flock to behold the great sights in that city of brotherly love. The speaker of the above sentence was a young lady of about twenty, tall, slender, and of aristocratic bearing. The person addressed was a bright little fairy, who looked not over sixteen, yet who in reality was two years older. She turned quickly toward the aristocratic looking lady who had spoken. “What is it, Aspasia? I have been waiting for you. Where have you been?” she asked, brightly. “Oh, this is you, then? I thought that young lady just passing out was you—these linen dusters deceive one so.” “You look heated and weary; will you not sit down and rest?” asked Brownie Douglas, regarding the flushed face of her friend with an amused look in her dark, bright eyes. There was never a greater contrast than between those two young ladies. One tall, fair, and languid, and dressed in the height of fashion; covered with jewels, laces, flowers, and furbelows, not to mention a three-quarters of a yard train, which, with the other fixings referred to, demanded so much of her attention that she could enjoy nothing of the wonders and beauties around her. The other, petite and dainty; her glossy brown hair simply coiled at the back of her small head, which was crowned with a hat of dark straw, trimmed with a wreath of scarlet berries and shining dark green leaves. Her half-fitting linen ulster protected, while it did not wholly conceal her rich though simple dress of black silk, which just cleared the floor, and did not hide the “two mites of feet,” incased in their tiny French boots. A pair of gray silk gloves covered her little hands, and a simple linen collar was fastened at her delicate throat by a richly carved spray of coral, her only visible ornament. “Are you ready to go on now?” she asked her friend, as she saw the frown upon her brow fade out, at being once more set in moving order. “Yes, but— There! Oh, dear!”