Page:Emily Climbs.pdf/303

For on Aunt Elizabeth’s answer, as Emily felt, everything depended. And she had no real hope that Aunt Elizabeth would let her go. Emily might look longingly towards those pleasant, far-off, green pastures pictured by Miss Royal, but she was quite sure she could never browse in them. The Murray pride—and prejudice—would be an impassable barrier.

Emily said nothing to Aunt Ruth about Miss Royal’s offer. It was Aunt Elizabeth’s due to hear it first. She kept her dazzling secret until the next week-end, when Miss Royal came to New Moon, very gracious and pleasant, and the wee-est bit patronising, to ask Aunt Elizabeth to let Emily go with her.

Aunt Elizabeth listened in silence—a disapproving silence, as Emily felt.

“The Murray women have never had to work out for their living,” she said coldly.

“It isn’t exactly what you would call ‘working out,’ dear Miss Murray,” said Miss Royal, with the courteous patience one must use to a lady whose viewpoint was that of an outlived generation. “Thousands of women are going into business and professional life, everywhere.”

“I suppose it’s all right for them if they don’t get married,” said Aunt Elizabeth.

Miss Royal flushed slightly. She knew that in Blair Water and Shrewsbury she was regarded as an old maid, and therefore a failure, no matter what her income and her standing might be in New York. But she kept her temper and tried another line of attack.

“Emily has an unusual gift for writing,” she said. “I think she can do something really worth while if she gets a chance. She ought to have her chance, Miss Murray. You know there isn’t any chance for that kind of work here.”

“Emily has made ninety dollars this past year with her pen,” said Aunt Elizabeth.

“Heaven grant me patience!” thought Miss Royal. Said Miss Royal,