Georgia shook hands, but the fingers she gave him were little rigid bars of steel—no life—no warmth there.
"When will you go?" said Richmond, following up his advantage, on the principle of striking while the iron was hot.
"On Monday."
"Oh, Georgia, I'm so glad! Oh, Georgia that's so nice!" exclaimed Emily, dancing round delightedly, and clasping her hands.
Georgia's face was a blank—cold and meaningless.
"That is right! Georgia, you are a good girl!"
"If I had refused to do as you told me I would have been a selfish, ungrateful thing—I understand!" said Georgia, turning away with a curling lip.
Richmond started. There was the look of a woman in her childish face at that moment. It was one of her precocious turns.
"Now, don't be cross, Georgia; it's real nice to go to school after you get used to it," said Emily, in her pretty, coaxing way, putting her arms round her waist.
"I must go home—Miss Jerusha will want me," said Georgia, by way of reply, as she resolutely, almost rudely, unclasped Emily's clinging arms.