Dora, however, was not satisfied with this assurance; she could not be, till she had spoken to Emily herself. "I cannot bear," she said, "only to be allowed to go into her room now and then; it seems as if she were quite cut off from us—and Margaret says the same; for indeed, Amy, you cannot think how sorry Margaret is now for what she did. She has been speaking about it to me this morning, and she wishes so much to say something. I believe aunt Herbert made her promise to do it, when she had that long conversation with her the other day. When do you think Emily will be able to see us both? I mean not just for a few minutes, but really to talk to her."
"I daresay she will to-morrow," said Amy; "for I believe she intends going down-stairs as usual, now; and then you will see how true it is that she does not think about anything, but really loves you very much."
"She is almost an angel, I believe," said Dora, earnestly.
"Yes, indeed she is," exclaimed Amy; "I am afraid to think much about her being so good, because then I get a fancy that she will be taken away; and I could not bear her to go."
"But I don't think she will stay here," said Dora.
"What do you mean?" inquired Amy, hastily.
"It will be so different now to what it used to be. She will not have much to do with Margaret and me; and I am nearly sure she will go."
"But not yet—you cannot mean yet?" said Amy. "I daresay it may be when you are quite grown up; but that is so far off."
"I think she will leave us at once," said Dora. "I have often heard mamma say that she had but one very great reason for keeping her; and you know that is all gone."
"Yes," said Amy, thoughtfully; "but she can teach you still."