"
"But, Emily, you don't think I ought to sell--"
"No! No! Of course I don't think so. If I were you I should fight to the
last ditch. I would never give in--never! Oh, Auntie, I feel wicked and
mean to leave you now, with all this new trouble; but I must--I must. I
can't stay here--I--"
"There, there, Emily, dear! I understand, I guess. I know how hard it is
for you. And I thought so much of him, too. I thought he was such a fine
young--"
"Aunt Thankful, are you daring to hint that I--I--care in the least for
that--him? How dare you insinuate such a thing to me? I--I despise him!"
"Yes, yes," hastily. "Course you do, course you do. Well, we won't worry
about that, any of it. Mr. Daniels says there's nothin' to worry about
anyhow, and I'll tell him he can do what he thinks ought to be done when
it's necessary. Now let's finish up that packin' of yours, dearie."
Thankful did not trust herself to accompany her cousin to Wellmouth
Centre. She was finding it hard enough to face the coming separation
with outward cheerfulness, and the long ride to the railway station
she found to be too great a strain. So she made the lameness of George
Washington's off fore leg an excuse for keeping that personage in the
stable, and it was in Winnie S.'s depot-wagon that Emily journeyed to
the Centre.
They said good-by at the front gate. Emily, too, was trying to appear
cheerful, and the parting was hurried.
"Good-by, Auntie," she said. "Take care of yourself.
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