Page:Emily Climbs.pdf/144

 ment in the various homes and boarding-houses of Shrewsbury.

Emily, in her small, candle-lighted room, looked at Emily-in-the-Glass with considerable satisfaction—a satisfaction that was quite justifiable. The scarlet flush of her cheeks, the deepening darkness of her grey eyes, came out brilliantly above the ashes-of-roses gown, and the little wreath of silver leaves, twisted around her black hair, made her look like a young dryad. She did not, however, like a dryad. Aunt Ruth had made her take off her lace stockings and put on cashmere ones—had tried, indeed, to make her put on woollen ones, but had gone down in defeat on that point, retrieving her position, however, by insisting on a flannel petticoat.

“Horrid bunchy thing,” thought Emily resentfully—meaning the petticoat, of course. But the skirts of the day were full and Emily’s slenderness could carry even a thick flannel petticoat.

She was just fastening her Egyptian chain around her neck when Auth Ruth stalked in.

One glance was sufficient to reveal that Aunt Ruth was very angry.

“Em’ly, Mrs. Ball has just called. She told me something that amazed me. Is this a you're taking part in tonight?”

Emily stared.

“Of course it’s a play, Aunt Ruth. Surely you knew that.”

“When you asked my permission to take part in this concert you told me it was a ,” said Aunt Ruth icily.

“Q-o-h—but Miss Aylmer decided to have a little play in place of it. I you knew, Aunt Ruth—truly I did. I thought I mentioned it to you.”

“You didn’t think anything of the kind, Em’ly—you deliberately kept me in ignorance because you knew I wouldn’t have allowed you to take part in a .”

“Indeed, no, Aunt Ruth,” pleaded Emily, gravely. “I