“She stood on the outside of the door, Brother Richard,” said Aunt Cordelia, quite flushed and breathless, “with the door drawn to behind her. She’s a terrifying woman, Richard. She said it was a case for discipline. She said she would allow no interference. My precious baby! And I kept on giving her iron——”
Uncle Charlie had come out with the buggy to take his brother-in-law driving.
“What did you come back without her for?” demanded Uncle Charlie.
Aunt Cordelia turned on Uncle Charlie. “You go and see why,” said Aunt Cordelia.
Truly an Aunt Cordelia is the last one to stand before a Miss Lizzie.
Uncle Charlie took his brother-in-law in the buggy, and they drove to the school. Emmy Lou’s father went in.
Uncle Charlie sat in the buggy and waited. Uncle Charlie wondered if it was right. Miss Lizzie was one of three. One was in an asylum. One was kept at home. And Miss Lizzie, with her rages, taught.
But could one speak, and take work and bread from a Miss Lizzie?
When papa came down, he had Emmy Lou, white-cheeked, by the hand. He had also a sternness about his mouth.
“I got her, you see,” he explained with an assumption of comical chagrin, “but with limitations. She’s got to say she’s sorry, or she can’t come back.”