Nobody was in a hurry to answer. Emily thought they would never speak. Finally Aunt Eva said with a whine,
“She’s such a difficult child—so odd. I can’t understand her at all.”
“I think,” said Aunt Laura timidly, “that she has what one might call an artistic temperament.”
“She’s a spoiled child,” said Aunt Ruth very decidedly. “There’s work ahead to straighten out her manners, if you ask me.”
(The little listener under the table turned her head and shot a scornful glance at Aunt Ruth through the tablecloth. “I think that your own manners have a slight curve.” Emily did not dare even to murmur the words under her breath, but she shaped them with her mouth; this was a great relief and satisfaction.)
“I agree with you,” said Aunt Eva, “and I for one do not feel equal to the task.”
(Emily understood that this meant Uncle Wallace didn’t mean to take her and she rejoiced thereat.)
“The truth is,” said Uncle Wallace, “Aunt Nancy ought to take her. She has more of this world’s goods than any of us.”
“Aunt Nancy would never dream of taking her and you know it well enough!” said Uncle Oliver. “Besides, she’s entirely too old to have the bringing up of a child—her and that old witch Caroline. Upon my soul, I don’t believe either of them is human. I would like to take Emily—but I feel that I can hardly do it. I’ve a large family to provide for.”
“She’ll not likely live long to bother any one,” said Aunt Elizabeth crisply. “She’ll probably die of consumption same as her father did.”