I couldn't help acting like _Sal Furbush_, the old crazy woman, who threatened to toss us up in the umbrella." "Forgive me, darling," said Emma coaxingly; "I will not do it again;" then stooping down, she looked intently into my eyes, soliloquizing, "Yes, it is wrong to tell her so." In a few moments I concluded Emma was the most beautiful creature in the world; I would not even except Carrie Howard.

Emma's features were perfectly regular, and her complexion white and pure as alabaster.

Her hair, which was a rich auburn, lay around her forehead in thick waves, but her great beauty consisted in her lustrous blue eyes, which were very large and dark.

When she was pleased they laughed, and when she was sad they were sad too.

Her dress was a white muslin wrapper, confined at the waist by a light blue ribbon, while one of the same hue encircled her neck, and was fastened by a small gold pin, which, with the exception of the costly diamond ring on her finger, was the only ornament she wore.
When supper was ready I proudly led her to the dining-room, casting a look of triumph at Juliet and Anna, and feeling, it may be, a _trifle_ above grandmother, who said, "Don't be troublesome, child." How grateful I was when Emma answered for me, "She doesn't trouble me in the least; I am very fond of children." Indeed, she seemed to be very fond of everybody and everything--all except Sally's Dutch cheese, which, as I expected, she hardly relished.