IT was not until the last afternoon of her stay that Emily Scarborough broached the subject nearest her heart. The day was a perfect one in early November, after a night of frost. The children were all in the fields helping their father, Dosia had moved her wheel to the porch, and the guest was with her there. After sitting silent for some time, Miss Scarborough said abruptly:
“I have a boon, a great boon, to ask of you, Dosia: I want Emily.”
Dosia’s yarn snapped, and the loose end whirled about the spindle.
“You mean to visit?” she asked.
“No, I mean to keep, all the time, for my own.” Miss Scarborough’s voice vibrated strangely. Then she said more calmly: “I will give her all she ought to have; the best possible education, travel, culture, opportunity to develop her artistic instincts. She shall take my full name and inherit my possessions. The old Virginia plantation after long years has become a valuable property, and there is more beside.”
Dosia listened silently, a line of painful thought in her forehead.
“And not these alone; better things shall be hers,” continued Miss Scarborough. “I have long been weary of teaching; I shall stop now and make a home for Emily. And as my adopted daughter, the best social life of two continents will be open to her. My very first act shall be to take her to Scarborough Castle; I have the greatest desire to show her to our kinsman the earl before she is in any way changed. All this, Dosia, I can do for her, and you never can.”
Dosia listened, troubled and pale.
“I desire that my children shall get l’arning and see the world,” she said slowly. “I feel as Scarboroughs they ought to. But has payrents ever a right to lay down their responsibilities? I allow not. I allow that me and Edwin is the ones accountable for Emily, and her proper guardeens. I would gladly send her to visit with you a spell; but to stay, that is different.”
“No,” interrupted Emily Scarborough in her imperious way; “it must be for all time. I must have her for my own.”