“Don’t mind her—she’s cracked,” he said. “Of course, when I grow up I mean to ask you to marry me but—”
“I couldn’t—Aunt Elizabeth—”
“Oh, she will then. I’m going to be premier of Canada some day.”
“But I wouldn’t want—I’m sure I wouldn’t—”
“You will when you grow up. Ilse is better looking of course, and I don’t know why I like you best but I do.”
“Don’t you ever talk to me like this again!” commanded Emily, beginning to recover her dignity.
“Oh, I won’t—not till we grow up. I’m as ashamed of it as you are,” said Perry with a sheepish grin. “Only I had to say something after Aunt Tom butted in like that. I ain’t to blame for it so don’t you hold it against me. But just you remember that I’m going to ask you some day. And I believe Teddy Kent is too.”
Emily was walking haughtily away but she turned at this to say coolly over her shoulder,
“If he does I’ll marry him.”
“If you do I’ll knock his head off,” shouted Perry in a prompt rage.
But Emily walked steadily on home and went to the garret to think things over.
“It has been romantic but not comfortable,” was her conclusion. And that particular poem on spring was never finished.
No reply or acknowledgement came from Great-Aunt Nancy Priest regarding Emily’s picture. Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Laura, knowing Great-Aunt Nancy’s ways tolerably well, were not surprised at this, but Emily
