Читать книгу Emily of New Moon онлайн

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“That’s right, puss,” he said. “Stand up to them—take your own part.”

“Jimmy!” said Aunt Ruth.

Jimmy subsided.

Aunt Ruth looked at Emily.

“When I was a little girl,” she said, “I never spoke until I was spoken to.”

“But if nobody ever spoke until they were spoken to there would be no conversation,” said Emily argumentatively.

“I never answered back,” Aunt Ruth went on severely. “In those days little girls were trained properly. We were polite and respectful to our elders. We were taught our place and we kept it.”

“I don’t believe you ever had much fun,” said Emily—and then gasped in horror. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud—she had only meant to think it. But she had such an old habit of thinking aloud to Father.

“Fun!” said Aunt Ruth, in a shocked tone. “I did not think of fun when I was a little girl.”

“No, I know,” said Emily gravely. Her voice and manner were perfectly respectful, for she was anxious to atone for her involuntary lapse. Yet Aunt Ruth looked as if she would like to box her ears. This child was pitying her—insulting her by being sorry for her—because of her prim, impeccable childhood. It was unendurable—especially in a Starr. And that abominable Jimmy was chuckling again! Elizabeth should suppress him!