DEAR COUSIN DAVID:
The girls are going to subscribe and buy a handsome Christmas present for Mrs. Pomeroy, and I want to give as much as the rest, but I have no money with me, and there is no time to write to my father. I might ask Mrs. Pomeroy, but she would be sure to ask me what it was for, and the girls do not want her to know anything about it. I should be very much obliged to you, if you would send me a little money before Christmas.
This letter was copied in her very best hand upon a sheet of note paper, and committing it to the care of Miss Stone, she waited anxiously for the result of her experiment. It was true that a two shilling subscription was actually on foot among the girls, to procure a present for Mrs. Pomeroy, but it was also true that she had already paid her share of the said subscription, with an odd quarter which had escaped being spent, by dropping into a drawer, and cunningly taken refuge in the tops of a pair of folded stockings. It would be two or three days before she received an answer, and meantime she would collect all her bills and ascertain the amount of her indebtedness, which she thought could not exceed ten dollars.
"Cousin David will be sure to send me as much as that," she thought, "and then, if any one catches me in such a scrape again, I am resolved, that come what may, I will never buy another thing without paying for it. I mean to turn over a new leaf next year, about all sorts of things. I wish I were like Lucy. She never gets into any trouble, and everything goes smoothly with her." Emily heaved a deep sigh, and then brightened up as she repeated, "I mean to turn over a new leaf next year."
"Miss Arlington is wanted in the library," said the monitress, putting her head in at the door.
Emily started. "Who wants me, Almira?" she asked, as a wild fancy that her father might have returned, came into her head and made her heart beat fast.
"Mrs. Pomeroy, of course," replied Almira, "and I advise you to make haste, for if you are in a scrape, you will not mend matters by keeping her waiting, I can tell you."
"I wonder if she can possibly have found out anything about those bills," thought Emily as she descended. "I almost wish she had, and then, at least, it would be off my mind. If I only dared tell her—but they say she is so strict about such things. But what is the use of borrowing trouble. It may, after all, only be something about my lessons."
Mrs. Pomeroy was sitting by her table with a letter in her hand, and Emily took courage on seeing her look just as usual.
"Here is a letter for you, Emily," said she, "I see it is a money letter, and I thought best to put it into your own hands. I believe, too, I must take the liberty of asking your correspondent's name?"
"It is from my cousin David, I daresay," said Emily, much relieved. "He often gives me money for my Christmas present. Yes, that is his hand," she added, as she looked at the superscription; "I should know it anywhere."