In the mean time Mary introduced the young ladies severally to Emma. Alice More professed herself very glad to see her; but this profession, for some reason, seemed to give Emma pain. Fanny made no professions at all, only coldly nodding a "how-d'ye-do," without appearing to notice that Emma wished to shake hands. The Misses Sliver were cordial enough, but too sentimental for the occasion; Miss Susan, using the language of some novel she had read, said, she hoped to find in Emma a "kindred spirit;" at which remark Fanny laughed outright, saying she hoped that "Sliver Crook" and "Snag Orchard" would not become etherialized.
"I cannot talk in that way," thought Mary; "so I will go by myself, and pick berries, leaving Miss Lindsay with them." Mary felt, however, that she should like to be somewhere near Emma; so she only withdrew a little way, sitting down where she could see her through the bushes. Alice chattered away very freely for a time, and then wandered off in pursuit of Fanny, who, from the first, had not addressed a single word to Emma. But the Misses Sliver kept near her, and seemed to be making themselves very agreeable. Mary heard them mention at least a dozen books, of which she had not heard even the titles before, and she was glad for having left Emma with those who could talk of such matters. She watched her though, as she bent over the blueberry bushes, and fancied that she looked sad. Then after a time she saw her sit down upon a log, looking very languid and weary. Mary had brought a bottle of nice milk from home that morning, and the thought crossed her mind that a draught of that milk might be refreshing to Emma; so she took a bright little dipper from her basket, and ran off toward the wagon.
"Where are you going, Mary Palmer?" said Alice, whom she met on the way.
"Miss Lindsay looks very pale and tired," said Mary. "I am going to carry her some of my nice milk."
"I would do no such thing," said Alice; "she is used to having a host of servants at her heels, and thinks that we country girls will act as her lackies. If she wants refreshment, tell her where it is, and let her go for it herself."
"Why, Alice," replied Mary, "you told her this morning that you were very glad to see her, and now you have no interest in making her either comfortable or happy."
"To be sure," said Alice; "do you suppose that I was going to say, 'I am not at all glad to see you, Miss Prim—I am mad enough with Henry Boyd to pull his ears, because he went to your house for you?' You would not have had me say so; but these were my feelings; so what am I to do?"
"I know what I would do," said Mary, firmly. "I would pray to God until I had better feelings; so that I could say from my heart, I am glad to see you."
"O good!" exclaimed Alice, laughingly; "you are getting to be religious, and I shall tell Fanny: so look out, little Miss Courtesy."
"You are very kind," said Emma, as she took the bright dipper of milk from Mary. "I ate but little breakfast, and am very fond of milk. This looks so nice too, so pure and white, in this clean, shining dipper:" and Emma sat looking at the milk, as though it were a pity to drink it up; and Mary stood looking at her, until she thought that perhaps it was not polite to do so, and turned away.