from fright? Not even while the thunderstorm was going on would relentless Elizabeth allow that door to be opened. And here was Miss Emily walking unconcernedly in out of the twilight after all this agony. For a moment even Aunt Laura was annoyed. But when she heard Emily’s tale her only feeling was thankfulness that Juliet’s child had not broken her neck on that rotten ladder.
Emily felt that she had got off better than she deserved. She knew Aunt Laura would keep the secret; and Aunt Laura let her give Saucy Sal a whole cupful of strippings, and gave her a big plummy cooky and put her to bed with kisses.
“You oughtn’t to be so good to me because I was bad to-day,” Emily said, between delicious mouthfuls. “I suppose I disgraced the Murrays going barefoot.”
“If I were you I’d hide my boots every time I went out of the gate,” said Aunt Laura. “But I wouldn’t forget to put them on before I came back. What Elizabeth doesn’t know will never hurt her.”
Emily reflected over this until she had finished her cooky. Then she said,
“That would be nice, but I don’t mean to do it any more. I guess I must obey Aunt Elizabeth because she’s the head of the family.”
“Where do you get such notions?” said Aunt Laura.
“Out of my head. Aunt Laura, Ilse Burnley and I are going to be chums. I like her—I’ve always felt I’d like her if I had a chance. I don’t believe I can ever love any girl again, but I like her.”
“Poor Ilse!” said Aunt Laura, sighing.
“Yes, her father doesn’t like her. Isn’t it dreadful?” said Emily. “Why doesn’t he?”
“He does—really. He only thinks he doesn’t.”
“But why does he think it?”
“You are too young to understand, Emily.”
Emily hated to be told she was too young to under-
