eek of Emily Louise might be hot, but in her heart was a newer
feeling; was it pleasure? Something, somewhere, was telling Emily Louise
that William liked her the better for these things he was laughing at.
Was she pleased thereat? Never. Her cheek grew hotter. Yet the
pleasurable sensation was there. Suddenly she understood. It was because
of this tribute to the condition of her conscience. Of course it would
be perfectly proper, therefore, to determine to keep up this reputation
with William.
There was other proof that William liked her. At grammar school it was
the proper thing to own an autograph album. William's page in the album
of Emily Louise was a triumph in purple ink upon a pinkish background.
Not that William had written it. Jimmy Reed had written it for him.
Jimmy wielded a master pen in flourish and shading, upon which he put a
price accordingly. A mere name cost the patrons of Jimmy a pickle, while
a pledge to eternal friendship or sincerity was valued at a doughnut.
For the feelings in verse, one paid a pie.
[Illustration: "For one's feelings in verse one paid a pie."]
William had paid a pie, and his sentiments at maximum price thus set
forth declared:
"True friendship is a golden knot
Which angles' hands have tied,
By heavenly skill its textures wrought
Who shall its folds divide?"
Emily Louise wondered about the "angles hands." What were they? It never
suggested itself that a master of the pen such as Jimmy might be weak
in spelling.
One has to meet new responsibilities at grammar school, too; one has to
be careful with whom she associates.
Associate was Isobel's word; she used many impressive words, but then
Isobel was different; she spelled her name with an o, and she did not
live in a home; Isobel lived in a hotel, and her papa was the holder of
a government position. Hattie's papa, someone told Emily Louise, had
wanted to hold it, but Isobel's papa got it.
Isobel said a person must discriminate. This Emily Louise found meant,
move in groups that talked each about the others. Isobel and Rosalie
pointed out to Emily Louise that the nice girls were in their group.
Yet Hattie was not in it; Emily Louise wondered why.
"It depends on who you are," said Isobel, with the sweeping calmness of
one whose position is assured. "My papa is own second cousin to the
Attorney-General of the United States."
And that this claim conveyed small meaning to the group about Isobel,
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