Emily's Quest

Yet, on the whole, the clan were pleased. Much pleased. After all their anxieties over Emily's love affairs, to see her "settled" so respectably with a "boy" well known to them, who had, so far as they knew at least, no bad habits and no disgraceful antecedents. And who was doing pretty well in the business of picture-painting. They would not exactly say so, but Old Kelly said it for them.

"Ah, now, that's something like," said Old Kelly approvingly

He put out his hands and drew her to him, with no conventional greeting. And spoke as if there were no years—no memories—between them.

"Don't tell me you can't love me—you can—you must—why, Emily"—his eyes had met the moonlit brilliance of hers for a moment—"you do."

It came clearly and suddenly on the air of a June evening. An old, old call—two higher notes and one long and soft and low

But if she didn't—love—them," faltered Aunt Laura

She told her father that she was going to marry Perry Miller and nobody else

If it had not been for her Murray pride she would have gone to Teddy the night he called her—and she would have been tomorrow's bride

He told you he had meant to tell you how much he loved you before he went—and if you could care a little for him to write and tell him so

"Wouldn't I like to smack his gob," said Cousin Jimmy feelingly.

Dean wrote too—"good creative work, Emily. Your characters are natural and human and delightful. And I like the glowing spirit of youth that pervades the book."

You were right not to come to New York," wrote Miss Royal. "You could never have written The Moral of the Rose here