eyes and foreheads would be dragged out and fitted on her. She was thoroughly tired of having her looks talked over in every gathering of the clans.
“Not much like the Murrays,” said Caroline, peering so closely into her face that Emily involuntarily drew back. “Not so handsome as the Murrays.”
“Nor the Starrs either. Her father was a handsome man—so handsome that I’d have run away with him myseif if I’d been fifty years younger. There’s nothing of Juliet in her that I can see. Juliet was pretty. You are not as good-looking as that picture made you out but I didn’t expect you would be. Pictures and epitaphs are never to be trusted. Where’s your bang gone, Emily?”
“Aunt Elizabeth combed it back.”
“Well, you comb it down again while you’re in my house. There’s something of your Grandfather Murray about your eye-brows. Your grandfather was a handsome man—and a darned bad-tempered one—almost as bad-tempered at the Priests,—hey, Caroline?”
“If you please, Great-Aunt Nancy,” said Emily deliberately, “I don’t like to be told I look like other people. I look just like myself.”
Aunt Nancy chuckled.
“Spunk, I see. Good. I never cared for meek youngsters. So you’re not stupid, eh?”
“No, I’m not.”
Great-Aunt Nancy grinned this time. Her false teeth looked uncannily white and young in her old, brown face.
“Good. If you’ve brains it’s better than beauty—brains last, beauty doesn’t. Me, for example. Caroline here, now, never had either brains nor beauty, had you, Caroline? Come, let’s go to supper. Thank goodness, my stomach has stood by me if my good looks haven’t.”
Great-Aunt Nancy hobbled, by the aid of her stick, up the steps and over to the table. She sat at one end, Caroline at the other, Emily between, feeling rather uncomfortable. But the ruling passion was still strong in her
