Page:Emily Climbs.pdf/324

“‘I shall miss you awfully, Emily.’

“I never dreamed of her saying and feeling anything like that. And it made me feel uncomfortable. Since Aunt Ruth was so decent about the John house scandal I’ve felt differently towards her. But I couldn’t say I’d miss her.

“Yet something had to be said.

“‘I shall always be very grateful to you, Aunt Ruth, for what you have done for me these past three years.’

“‘I’ve tried to do my duty,’ said Aunt Ruth virtuously.

“I find I’m oddly sorry to leave this little room I’ve never liked and that has never liked me, and that long hill starred with lights—after all, I’ve had some wonderful moments here. And even poor dying Byron! But by no stretch of sentiment can I regret parting from Queen Alexandra’s chromo, or the vase of paper flowers. Of course, the Lady Giovanna goes with me. She belongs in my room at New Moon. She has always seemed like an exile here. It hurts me to think I shall never again hear the night wind in the Land of Uprightness. But I'll have my night wind in Lofty John’s bush; I think Aunt Elizabeth means to let me have a kerosene lamp to write by—my door at New Moon shuts tight—and I will not have to drink cambric tea. I went at dusk tonight to that little pearly pool which has always been such a witching spot to linger near on spring evenings. Through the trees that fringed it faint hues of rose and saffron from the west stole across it. It was unruffled by a breath and every leaf and branch and fern and blade of grass was mirrored in it. I looked in—and saw my face; and by an odd twist of reflection from a bending bough I seemed to wear a leafy garland on my head—like a laurel crown.

“I took it as a good omen.

“Perhaps Teddy was only shy!”