"Oh, you must, Miss Jerusha, you know," said Emily, seizing her other hand, and putting her happy little face close up to hers, "it won't do to refuse a governor your pardon. You must forgive him, please—won't you, Miss Jerusha?"
"Well, now, I don't know," said Miss Jerusha, relentingly, "he did treat you dreffully, Georgey, but——"
"No, he didn't Miss Jerusha—just served her right," said Emily, "Georgia was naughty, I know, and didn't behave well. There, she forgives him—look, she's going to laugh. Oh, say yes, Miss Jerusha."
"Well, 'yes' then; does that please you?" said Miss Jerusha, breaking into a grim smile.
"Dear Miss Jerusha, accept my best thanks for that," said Georgia, with radiant face, "and now, may I send Fly up for him to Richmond House, that he may hear your forgiveness from your own lips?"
"Well, yes, I s'pose so," said Miss Jerusha, rubbing her nose; "and see here, Georgey, while you're about it, I reckon you might as well send for that there brother o' your'n too; I turned him out o' doors once, and while I'm forgiving that there graceless husband o' your'n, I guess I'll get him to forgive me."
Georgia laughed, and went out to the kitchen to despatch Fly off on the errand.
"Perhaps I had better go," said Emily, timidly, "I—I think I'd rather. It's so long since I met Mr. Wildair that I don't like to now."
"Pooh, nonsense," said Georgia laughing, "don't like to meet Mr. Wildair, indeed! Not a step shall you go until they come, and besides, I want to make you acquainted with my poet brother, who is a handsome fellow!" and Georgia's eyes sparkled.
"Does he look like you, Georgia?" said Emily, meditatively.