Just at first Emmeline went on sobbing without making any answer, in a way which was alarmingly strange to Kitty; and even when the answer did come, it puzzled Kitty more than it enlightened her. ‘Oh, I wish I was a dear, good, little thing like you!’ whispered Emmeline, catching hold of her.
‘Why, Emmeline!’ cried Kitty, with unfeigned astonishment. ‘You are always ever so much gooder than me and Micky—quite annoyingly good sometimes.’
‘No, I’m not,’ cried Emmeline. ‘I’m horrid!’
‘I’m sure you’re not horrid,’ said Kitty loyally. ‘You’re very nice and kind. Why, Micky and I would never have even thought of taking Diamond Jubilee as a brand from the burning if it hadn’t been for you!’
Perhaps this reflection was less comforting than Kitty imagined; but Emmeline relapsed into silence after that—silence which lasted so long that Kitty fancied she had fallen asleep, and crept back to her own bed.
But it was a long time before Emmeline really fell asleep that night.