“Well, we are not getting anywhere. We have to look after the child—”
(“I wish you wouldn’t call me ‘the child,’” thought Emily bitterly.)
“—and some of us must give her a home. Juliet’s daughter must not be left to the mercy of strangers. Personally, I feel that Eva’s health is not equal to the care and training of a child—”
“Of such a child,” said Aunt Eva.
(Emily stuck her tongue out at Aunt Eva.)
“Poor little soul,” said Aunt Laura gently.
(Something frozen in Emily’s heart melted at that moment. She was pitifully pleased over being called “poor little soul” so tenderly.)
“I do not think you need pity her overmuch, Laura,” said Uncle Wallace decidedly. “It is evident that she has very little feeling. I have not seen her shed a tear since we came here.”
“Did you notice that she would not even take a last look at her father?” said Aunt Elizabeth.
Cousin Jimmy suddenly whistled at the ceiling.
“She feels so much that she has to hide it,” said Aunt Laura.
Uncle Wallace snorted.
“Don’t you think we might take her, Elizabeth?” Laura went on timidly.
Aunt Elizabeth stirred restlessly.
“I don’t suppose she’d be contented at New Moon, with three old people like us.”
(“I would—I would!” thought Emily.)
“Ruth, what about you?” said Uncle Wallace. “You’re all alone in that big house. It would be a good thing for you to have some company.”
“I don’t like her,” said Aunt Ruth sharply. “She is as sly as a snake.”
(“I’m not!” thought Emily.)
