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She sang it and some others that she thought he would like, and then said, "I hope I have not tired you, but I am afraid you are in pain." "I am," said Joe, in his old gruff uncivil voice, "in great pain." "Can I do any thing for you?" asked Emilie, modestly. "No nothing, nothing can be done!
But when Emilie opened the Bible that night, her eye rested on the words, "Be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you," then Emilie could not rest. She did not forgive her aunt; she felt that she did not; but Emilie was human, and human nature is proud.
You must come home with me directly I insist upon it But, no," said she, checking herself, with a look of sudden disappointment, "no, my dearest friend! I cannot invite you; for I have not a bed to offer you." "Yes, mine you forget mine dear Mrs. Somers," cried Emilie; "you know I can sleep with mamma." "By no means, Mlle. de Coulanges; you cannot possibly imagine "
Joe helped Emilie and the Miss Parkers very efficiently as he lay "useless," he said, but they thought otherwise, and gave him many little jobs of pasting, gumming, etc. It was a beautiful tree, I assure you; but Joe had a great deal of mysterious talk with Emilie, apart from the rest, which, however, we must not divulge until Christmas eve.
You refuse my son you refuse to be my daughter. I am satisfied perfectly satisfied. I suppose you have arranged to go to Lady Littleton's. I heartily hope that she may be able to make her house more agreeable to you than I could render mine. Shake hands, Mlle. de Coulanges. You have my best wishes for your health and happiness Here we part." "Oh! do not let us part in anger!" said Emilie.
Why was I kept in ignorance till the last moment? Why did you never confide your thoughts to me, Emilie? Why did you never till now say one word to me of this strange attachment?" "There was no necessity for speaking till now," said Emilie. "It is a subject I never named to any one except to mamma a subject on which I did not think it right to speak to any one but to a parent."
So Emilie hushed pride's voice, and opening her door, crossed the little passage to her aunt's sleeping room, and putting her arm round her neck fondly said, "Dear aunt!" It was enough, the good old lady hugged her lovingly. "Ah, Emilie dear, I am a cross old woman, and thou art a dear good child. Bless thee!"
So I am now at times, my evil thoughts and feelings cling so close to me, and I have no longer you, dear Emilie, to warn and to encourage me, but I have Jesus still. He Is a good Friend to me, a better even than you have been. I owe you a great deal Emilie; you taught me to love, you showed me the sin of temper, and the beauty of peace and love.
After this symphony the Prometheus music had the greatest success, while I was particularly affected by Emilie Genast's singing of a song-cycle, composed by Bulow, called Die Entsagende.
"But you needn't pretend you saw her with us," said Franz uneasily. The apple woman nodded her red bandana wisely. "Folks that lives outdoors the way I do, honey, sees mo' than you-all," she answered. Emilie ran home ahead of her brother, and softly entered her father's room. He was at his desk, as was usual at this hour.
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