“You made a joke, Emily,” he said, looking at his younger sister’s contortions.
Emily was too impatient to speak to him further, and left the table. Soon the two men went back to the fallow to the turnips, and I walked along the path with the girls as they were going to school.
“He irritates me in everything he does and says,” burst out Emily with much heat.
“He’s a pig sometimes,” said I.
“He is!” she insisted. “He irritates me past bearing, with his grand know-all way, and his heavy smartness—I can’t beat it. And the way mother humbles herself to him——!”
“It makes you wild,” said I.
“Wild!” she echoed, her voice vibrating with nervous passion. We walked on in silence, till she asked.
“Have you brought me those verses of yours?”
“No—I’m so sorry—I’ve forgotten them again. As a matter of fact, I’ve sent them away.”
“But you promised me.”