"Perhaps I can do her some good," she had said to herself. "At any rate, I ought to show her that I don't mean to insult her, like Emma."
If any one had told Amity that she wanted to show how much better she was than Emma, Amity would have denied with scorn that she ever thought of such a thing.
As Maud and Amity were standing together, Emma came up to them, her cheeks very pink and her eyes looking brighter than usual, and a little as if the tears might be pretty near them.
"Maud," said she, winking rather hard, "I am sorry I mimicked you this morning, and spoke so about your mother. Please forgive me."
Maud stared a moment, as if she did not quite understand Emma's meaning. Then she laughed, not mockingly, but quite good-humoredly.
"My! That wasn't anything," said she. "I had forgotten all about it, and I didn't care anyway. I say a great deal worse things than that myself, very often. I couldn't think what you meant at first."
"Then you are not angry?" said Emma.
"No, not a bit. I am not so silly as that, I hope. I did not mind it at all and if I had, I should have got all over it by this time. I never can keep mad, if I try ever so hard. But anyhow, it is real sweet in you to come and say you are sorry—isn't it, Amity?"
"It is better to take care and not say things one has to be sorry for," said Amity. Somehow she did not feel pleased at all with the turn things had taken.
Her remark did not make Emma's task any easier, but she had come to do her duty, and she did it.