Page:Emily Climbs.pdf/307

“Oh, I’m going to be an old maid, Mr. Kelly,” smiled Emily.

Old Kelly shook his head as he gathered up his reins.

“Shure an’ nothing like that will ever be happening to you. You're one av the folks God really loves—only don’t be taking one av the Prastes now—never one av the Prastes, gurrl dear.”

“Mr. Kelly,” said Emily suddenly. “I’ve been offered a splendid chance—to go to New York and take a place on the staff of a magazine. I can’t make up my mind. What do you think I’d better do?”

As she spoke she thought of the horror of Aunt Elizabeth at the idea of a Murray asking Old Jock Kelly's advice. She herself was a little ashamed of doing it.

Old Kelly shook his head again.

“What do the b’ys around here be thinking av? But what does the ould lady say?”

“Aunt Elizabeth says I can do as I like.”

“Then I guess we'll be laving it at that,’ said Old Kelly—and drove off without another word. Plainly there was no help to be had in Old Kelly.

“Why should I want help?” thought Emily desperately. “What has got into me that I can’t make up my own mind? Why can’t I say I'll go? It doesn’t seem to me now that I want to go—I only feel I ought to want to go.”

She wished that Dean were home. But Dean had not got back from his winter in Los Angeles. And somehow she could not talk the matter over with Teddy. Nothing had come of that wonderful moment in the old John house—nothing except a certain constraint that had almost spoiled their old comradeship. Outwardly they were as good friends as ever; but something was gone—and nothing seemed to be taking its place. She would not admit to herself that she was afraid to ask Teddy. Suppose he told her to go? That would hurt unbearably—because it would show that he didn’t care whether she went or stayed. But Emily would not glance at this at all.