Читать книгу Emily of New Moon онлайн

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Douglas Starr came over to her bed. She felt his dear nearness as he sat down on the chair beside her, in his old red dressing-gown. Oh, how she loved him! There was no other Father like him in all the world—there never could have been—so tender, so understanding, so wonderful! They had always been such chums—they had loved each other so much—it couldn’t be that they were to be separated.

“Winkums, are you asleep?”

“No,” whispered Emily.

“Are you sleepy, small dear?”

“No—no—not sleepy.”

Douglas Starr took her hand and held it tightly.

“Then we’ll have our talk, honey. I can’t sleep either. I want to tell you something.”

“Oh—I know it—I know it!” burst out Emily. “Oh, Father, I know it! Ellen told me.”

Douglas Starr was silent for a moment. Then he said under his breath, “The old fool—the fat old fool!”—as if Ellen’s fatness was an added aggravation of her folly. Again, for the last time, Emily hoped. Perhaps it was all a dreadful mistake—just some more of Ellen’s fat foolishness.

“It—it isn’t true, is it, Father?” she whispered.