‘Yes, dear. Why do you ask?’
‘Because you seem so grave, somehow—like when we’ve been naughty.
‘I was thinking, I suppose,’ said Aunt Grace, laughing, and for the rest of the walk she chatted merrily about all kinds of things.
‘It’s easy to see she doesn’t care much about the poor children,’ thought Emmeline, feeling well satisfied with herself; ‘if she did, she wouldn’t make so many jokes.’
All the way home, and while they were having supper afterwards, Emmeline went on thinking of the little girl who had spent her pocket-money and her playtime on the poor.
‘Do you know,’ she said abruptly, in the middle of her basin of soup, ‘I think it would be very nice if we had a collecting-box for that Home. I’ve got a shilling in my money-box upstairs which I’ll put in for a start. I did mean to have saved up to buy “Queechy,” but I’ll gladly give that up for the sake of the poor little children. Kitty and Micky, if you were unselfish you’d give up your money too.’
The twins looked blank, and instead of being touched at Emmeline’s self-sacrifice Aunt Grace said rather sharply, ‘Really, Emmeline, it is not your business to settle what the twins ought to give. Start a box if you like, but I can’t have you forcing the others to contribute to it.’
Emmeline tried to reflect that this was only what she might have expected; people’s worldly relations always did persecute them when they wanted to do anything specially beautiful or unselfish; but she could not help looking hurt, and Kitty, who never could bear anyone to be snubbed, broke in:
‘Oh, but she didn’t mean to force us, Aunt Grace. It was only a suggestion. You shall have my sixpence, Emmeline—at least, threepence of it will be from me and the other threepence from Micky. Then it won’t matter his saving his own money for a new gun. You see, it’s really necessary he should have one that’s not broken when he sleeps in such a lonely part of the house.’