“Miss Mohun would take you.”

“Can’t I go without a fidgety old maid after me?”

“I’ll tell you what I wish you would do, Emmie.  Write an account of one of your hospital visits, or of the match-girls, for the Mouse-trap.  Do!  You know Gerald has written something for it.”

“He!  Why he has too much sense to write for your voluntary schools.  Or it would be too clever and incisive for you.  Ah!  I see it was so by your face!  What did he send you?  Have you got it still?”

“We have really a parody of his which is going in—­The Girton Girl.  Now, Emmie, won’t you?  You have told me such funny things about your match-girls.”

“I do not mean to let them be turned into ridicule by your prim, decorous swells.  Why, I unfortunately told Fernan Brown one story—- about their mocking old Miss Bruce with putting on imitation spectacles-—and it has served him for a cheval de bataille ever since!  Oh, my dear Anna, he gets more hateful than ever.  I wish you would come back and divert his attention.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t you think we could change?  You could go and let Marilda fuss with you, now that Uncle Clem and Aunt Cherry are so well, and I could look after Adrian, and go to the Infirmary, and the penitents, and all that these people neglect; maybe I would write for the Mouse-trap, if Gerald does when he comes home.”

Anna did not like the proposal, but she pitied Emilia, and cared for her enough to carry the scheme to her aunt.  But Geraldine shook her head.  The one thing she did not wish was to have Emmie riding, walking, singing, and expanding into philanthropy with Gerald, and besides, she knew that Emilia would never have patience to read to her uncle, or help Adrian in his preparation.

“Do you really wish this, my dear?” she asked.

“N-—no, not at all; but Emmie does.  Could you not try her?”

“Annie dear, if you wish to have a fortnight or more in town-—”

“Oh no, no, auntie, indeed!”

“We could get on now without you.  Or we would keep Emmie till the room is wanted; but I had far rather be alone than have the responsibility of Emmie.”

“No, no, indeed; I don’t think Adrian would be good long with her.  I had much rather stay—-only Emmie did wish, and she hates the—-”

“Oh, my dear, you need not tell me; I only know that I cannot have her after next week; the room will be wanted for Gerald.”

“She could sleep with me.”

“No, Annie, I must disappoint you.  There is not room for her, and her flights when Gerald comes would never do for your uncle.  You know it yourself.”

Anna could not but own the wisdom of the decision, and Emmie, after grumbling at Aunt Cherry, took herself off.  She had visited the Infirmary and the Convalescent Home, and even persuaded Mrs. Hablot to show her the Union Workhouse, but she never sent her contribution to the Mouse-trap.