The Richest Heart

Chapter 23

Emiline held the book tight in her arms, keeping it out of sight. The dust billowed up around her as a buggy passed by, but she didn't look up from the road to see who was driving or to give them a friendly wave. That morning, she was following the path to Susan's house with a nervous feeling in her heart. She looked down at the red binding of the book she was carrying. It was the copy of Hamlet that Susan had lent her. She hadn't lifted it's cover since that awful night when Grandma had warned her about it. Now, she had to give it back, unread and rejected. Somehow it felt like every person who passed by understood her embarrassing situation.

"How am I going to tell Susan that I didn't read it?" she wondered in agony. The girl let out a self-pitying whimper. "She'll want to know why," she went on to herself. "What will I tell her? That Grandma told me I couldn't read it?" Emma sighed. She knew there was a better reason than that, but she was trying not to think about it too much. Somehow, she didn't want to admit that Grandma Adler was right. If she did that, she would always have to be careful about the kind of books she read and she didn't want to be limited. She wanted to read every book she could get her hands on; at least, every book besides this one.

In a few moments, Emiline climbed the steps to Susan's house and paused to catch her breath.

"What if Susan doesn't understand why I didn't read it?" she thought miserably. "What if she gets angry with me? What if...what if she doesn't want to be my friend anymore?" For an instant, she could picture the look of frustration and offense that would cross Susan's beautiful face. She could see the girl turning her back to her and walking away with a cold glare. Suddenly, Emiline wished that she could read Hamlet. It wasn't that she liked the story, but to her, it seemed better to struggle through those frightening words than to lose her best friend.

On silent hinges, the mansion's door suddenly opened. Emiline gave a start and looked up with round eyes. Above her, Olive's unpleasant face stared with a grim expression.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Emma shook away her surprise and tried to smile.

"I came to see Susan," she stammered nervously. "Is she...at home?" The woman's dull voice was about to answer, but suddenly she was interrupted.

"Olive, do we have a visitor?" someone asked from inside. It was a beautiful sounding voice, full of life and gracefulness. Emiline tried to look past the maid to see who was speaking. There was something about that voice that rang like music in the girl's ears. Olive tried to answer again, but the young woman didn't give her a chance. With light, quick steps, a lady stepped forward and gently pulled the maid out of the way.

"Good morning," she said brightly. "Have you come to call on Mrs. Elwin?" A brilliant smile glittered on her face as she waited for Emma to respond, but the girl couldn't find her own voice. Instead, she stood and stared in awe and silence. Emiline had never seen anyone like this young woman before. She had never imagined that anyone could be so lovely. Curls framed her flawless face, a pair of satin gloves reached up to her elbows, and her silk dress was embroidered with the most elegant designs. She was more beautiful than the princesses Emma had dreamed of; more stately than the queens in her story books. At last, Emiline snapped out of her stupor and cleared her throat.

"I came to see Susan," she began, gripping the book in her arms tighter. "Are...are you her cousin?" The words sounded childish and silly as they slipped out of her mouth in a tone of admiration. She blushed in embarrassment and fingered her dark hair awkwardly. The woman above her smiled again.

"I am," she answered gracefully. "My name is Anastasia Bloom. And who might you be, My Dear?"

"Emiline Elmwood," the girl answered. "I'm Susan's friend." As she spoke, her mind flew back to her dreadful task. "At least I used to be her friend," she added in her mind.