knows, unless it’s Caroline—she’ll likely leave it all to some of the Priests—Leslie Priest’s a favourite of hers, I understand. Aunt Nancy always liked her husband’s family better than her own, even though she’s always slurring at them. Still—she might take a fancy to Emily—they’re both so odd they might suit each other—but you know the way she talks—she and that abominable old Caroline.”
“Emily is too young to understand,” said Aunt Laura.
“I understand more than you think,” cried Emily indignantly.
Aunt Elizabeth jerked open the cook-house door.
“Emily Starr, haven’t you learned by this time not to listen?”
“I wasn’t listening. I thought you knew I was sitting here—I can’t help my ears hearing. Why didn’t you whisper? When you whisper I know you’re talking secrets and I don’t try to hear them. Am I going to Great-Aunt Nancy’s for a visit?”
“We haven’t decided,” said Aunt Elizabeth coldly, and that was all the satisfaction Emily got for a week. She hardly knew herself whether she wanted to go or not. Aunt Elizabeth had begun making cheese—New Moon was noted for its cheeses—and Emily found the whole process absorbing, from the time the rennet was put in the warm new milk till the white curds were packed away in the hoop and put under the press in the old orchard, with the big, round, grey “cheese” stone to weight it down as it had weighed down New Moon cheeses for a hundred years. And then she and Ilse and Teddy and Perry were absorbed heart and soul in “playing out” the “Midsummer Night’s Dream” in Lofty John’s bush and it was very fascinating. When they entered Lofty John’s bush they went out of the realm of daylight and things known into the realm of twilight and mystery and enchantment. Teddy had painted wonderful scenery on old boards and pieces of sails, which Perry had got at the
