Читать книгу Emily of New Moon онлайн

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“I’m going to take the poor child up to bed—she’s worn right out.”

Emily opened her eyes and looked drowsily about her.

“Can I have Mike?” she said.

“Who is Mike?”

“My cat—my big grey cat.”

“A cat!” exclaimed Aunt Elizabeth in a shocked tone. “You must not have a cat in your bedroom!”

“Why not—for once?” pleaded Laura.

“Certainly not!” said Aunt Elizabeth. “A cat is a most unwholesome thing in a sleeping apartment. I’m surprised at you, Laura! Take the child up to bed and see that there are plenty of bedclothes. It’s a cold night—but let me hear no more talk of sleeping with cats.”

“Mike is a clean cat,” said Emily. “He washes himself—every day.”

“Take her up to bed, Laura!” said Aunt Elizabeth, ignoring Emily.

Aunt Laura yielded meekly. She carried Emily upstairs, helped her undress, and tucked her into bed. Emily was very sleepy. But before she was wholly asleep she felt something, soft and warm and purry and companionable, snuggling down by her shoulder. Aunt Laura had sneaked down, found Mike and brought him up to her. Aunt Elizabeth never knew and Ellen Greene dared not say a word in protest—for was not Laura a Murray of New Moon?