“The Lost Diamond?” said Emily wonderingly. What fascinating thing was this?
“Never hear the story? I’ll tell it to-morrow—Sunday’s lazy day at New Moon. I must get off to my turnips now or I’ll have Elizabeth out looking at me. She won’t say anything—she’ll just look. Ever seen the real Murray look?”
“I guess I saw it when Aunt Ruth pulled me out from under the table,” said Emily ruefully.
“No—no. That was the Ruth Dutton look—spite and malice and all uncharitableness. I hate Ruth Dutton. She laughs at my poetry—not that she ever hears any of it. The spirit never moves when Ruth is around. Dunno where they got her. Elizabeth is a crank but she’s sound as a nut, and Laura’s a saint. But Ruth’s worm-eaten. As for the Murray look, you’ll know it when you see it. It’s as well-known as the Murray pride. We’re a darn queer lot—but we’re the finest people ever happened. I’ll tell you all about us to-morrow.”
Cousin Jimmy kept his promise while the aunts were away at church. It had been decided in family conclave that Emily was not to go to church that day.
“She has nothing suitable to wear,” said Aunt Elizabeth. “By next Sunday we will have her white dress ready.”
Emily was disappointed that she was not to go to church. She had always found church very interesting on the rare occasions when she got there. It had been too far at Maywood for her father to walk but sometimes Ellen Greene’s brother had taken her and Ellen.
“Do you think, Aunt Elizabeth,” she said wistfully, “that God would be much offended if I wore my black dress to church? Of course it’s cheap—I think Ellen Greene paid for it herself—but it covers me all up.”
“Little girls who do not understand things should hold their tongues,” said Aunt Elizabeth. “I do not choose
