Emily replied that she had letters to write, which would keep her engaged the whole morning; and Amy scarcely wished her to remain, when she observed the expression of Miss Cunningham's face, and saw that her good-humour was by no means restored.
It was not indeed a very easy task at any time; and Julia Stanley seemed resolved that this morning it should be more difficult than ever. She had given up the idea of confessing her fault, and trying to make amends, because she could not have her own way as to the manner in which it should be done, and had become angry with herself, and, as a natural consequence, angry with every one else. There was, in fact, a regular feud between her and Miss Cunningham; and Dora soon saw that to preserve peace would be a difficult matter. Julia's manner was more sharp and abrupt than ever, as she took every opportunity of repeating Miss Cunningham's words, and turning them into ridicule; while Miss Cunningham, on her part, endeavoured to make sneers and scornful looks as effective as words. Amy was very uncomfortable, and once or twice tried to divert their attention by talking to the younger children, and making them bring their dolls and playthings to the table where the elder girls were working. But her efforts were in vain; and, as a last hope, she ventured to suggest to Dora, that perhaps it might be pleasant if some one were to read out. The idea was the greatest possible relief to poor Dora, for all her antipathy to strange school-girls, and three days' visits, was returning in full force; and having asked, as a matter of form, whether any one would dislike it, she quickly produced half-a-dozen volumes to choose from.
The choice being settled, the next question to be decided was, who should read. There was a general burst of excuses as the inquiry was made. Every one would read, only there was a piece of work to be finished, or a drawing to be begun, or some beads to be threaded, or they were so soon tired that it was quite useless to begin, or they were suffering from a cold and hoarseness, which would make it disagreeable for the rest to listen. Dora put down the book on the table, considering it, as a matter of course, that she should not be obliged to do it. She had seldom been called on to give up her own will for others, but had always ordered and managed, and told others their duty; and when this was done, her part was considered finished. So, in the present instance, she had decided it would be a good thing to read, and had chosen the book, and supposed that some one would easily be found willing to amuse the rest. But Dora was mistaken.
The only person who had not excused herself was the only one whose excuse would have been really a good one. Poor Amy's heart beat fast as she thought that it might fall to her lot to read. She had never read aloud to any one but her mamma; and she was the youngest of the party; and, moreover, she knew that in the book which had been fixed on there were some long French quotations, which must be pronounced or translated, either alternative being equally disagreeable. "I wish I could read," she whispered to Margaret, who was sitting next her; "but I am so frightened."
"Oh! it does not signify," answered Margaret, aloud; "there is no occasion for us to trouble ourselves—Emily Morton will come directly; I have known her go on for hours when mamma has been ill."
"Yes," said Dora, feeling slightly uncomfortable as she spoke, "she is much more used to it than we are. Rose, go and tell Emily Morton that we should be very much obliged if she could read out to us this morning whilst we are working."
The message was more civil than it would have been some months before; and Dora's conscience was rather relieved; but to Amy it seemed only selfish and thoughtless.
"Miss Morton told me she had letters to write, Dora," she said, timidly.
"Don't you think reading to us would be an interruption to her?"
"Not more than giving us our usual lessons," observed Margaret; "it is only occupying the same time in a different way."
"But," replied Amy, "indeed I think the letters are of consequence; and the post goes out so early."