and then she said, “I saw your school teacher in Shrewsbury last Saturday, Em’ly, and she did not give me a very good account of you. If you were my daughter I would expect a different report.”
“I am very glad I am not your daughter,” I said in my mind. I didn’t say it out loud of course but Aunt Ruth said, “Please do not look so sulky when I speak to you, Em’ly.” And Uncle Wallace said, “It is a pity she has such an unattractive expression.”
“You are conceited and domineering and stingy,” I said, still in my mind. “I heard Dr. Burnley say you were.”
“I see there is an ink-stain on her finger,” said Aunt Ruth. (I had been writing a poem before dinner.)
“And then a most surprising thing happened. Relations are always surprising you. Aunt Elizabeth spoke up and said, “I do wish, Ruth, that you and Wallace would leave that child alone.” I could hardly believe my ears. Aunt Ruth looked annoyed but she did leave me alone after that and only sniffed when Cousin Jimmy slipped a bit more white meat on my plate.
“After that the dinner was nice. And when they got as far as the pudding they all began to talk and it was splendid to listen to. They told stories and jokes about the Murrays. Even Uncle Wallace laughed and Aunt Ruth told some things about Great-Aunt Nancy. They were sarcastic but they were interesting. Aunt Elizabeth opened Grandfather Murray’s desk and took out an old poem that had been written to Aunt Nancy by a lover when she was young and Uncle Oliver read it. Great-Aunt Nancy must have been very beautiful. I wonder if anyone will ever write a poem to me. If I could have a bang somebody might. I said, “Was Great Aunt Nancy really as pretty as that?” and Uncle Oliver said, “They say she was 70 years ago” and Uncle Wallace said,
