Emily sat in a maze of bewilderment, too confused and dazzled to think clearly. She had never dreamed of this. It was as if Miss Royal had suddenly put into her hand a key to unlock the door into the world of all her dreams, and hopes, and imaginings. Beyond that door was all she had ever hoped for of success and fame. And yet... and yet... what faint, odd, resentment stirred at the back of all her whirling sensations? Was there a sting in Miss Royal's calm assumption that if Emily did NOT go with her her name would forever remain unknown? Did the old dead-and-gone Murrays turn over in their graves at the whisper that one of their descendants could never succeed without the help and "pull" of a stranger? Or HAD Miss Royal's manner been a shade too patronizing? Whatever it was it kept Emily from figuratively flinging herself at Miss Royal's feet.
"Oh, Miss Royal, that would be wonderful," she faltered. "I'd love to go... but I'm afraid Aunt Elizabeth will never consent. She'll say I'm too young."
"How old ARE you?"
"Seventeen."
"I was eighteen when I went. I didn't know a soul in New York... I had just enough money to keep me for three months. I was a crude, callow little thing... yet I won out. YOU shall live with me. I'll look after you as well as Aunt Elizabeth herself could do. Tell her I'll guard you like the apple of my eye. I have a dear, cozy, little flat where we'll be as happy as queens, with my adored and adorable Chu-Chin. You'll love Chu-Chin, Emily."
"I think I'd like a cat better," said Emily firmly.
"Cats! Oh, we couldn't have a cat in a flat. It wouldn't be amenable enough to discipline. You must sacrifice your pussies on the altar of your art. I'm sure you'll like living with me. I'm VERY kind and amiable, dearest, when I feel like it... and I generally do feel like it... and I NEVER lose my temper. It freezes up occasionally, but, as I told you, it thaws quickly. I bear other people's misfortunes with equanimity. And I NEVER tell any one she has a cold or that she looks tired. Oh, I'd really make an adorable housemate."
"I'm sure you would," said Emily, smiling.
"I never saw a young girl before that I wanted to live with," said Miss Royal. "You have a sort of luminous personality, Emily. You'll give off light in dull places and empurple drab spots. Now, DO make up your mind to come with me."
"It is Aunt Elizabeth's mind that must be made up," said Emily ruefully. "If she says I can go I'll... "
Emily found herself stopping suddenly.
"Go," finished Miss Royal joyfully. "Aunt Elizabeth will come around. I'll go and have a talk with her. I'll go out to New Moon with you next Friday night. You MUST have your chance."
"I can't thank you enough, Miss Royal, so I won't try. But I must go now. I'll think this all over... I'm too dazzled just now to think at all. You don't know what this means to me."
"I think I do," said Miss Royal gently. "I was once a young girl in Shrewsbury, eating my heart out because I had no chance."
"But you made your own chance... and won out," said Emily wistfully.
"Yes... but I had to go away to do it. I could never have got anywhere here. And it was a horribly hard climb at first. It took my youth. I want to save you some of the hardships and discouragements. You will go far beyond what I have done... you can create... I can only build with the materials others have made. But we builders have our place... we can make temples for our gods and goddesses if nothing else. Come with me, dear Girl Emily, and I will do all I can to help you in every way."
"Thank you... thank you," was all Emily could say. Tears of gratitude for this offer of ungrudging help and sympathy were in her eyes. She had not received too much of sympathy or encouragement in her life. It touched her deeply. She went away feeling that she MUST turn the key and open the magic door beyond which now seemed to lie all the beauty and allurement of life... if only Aunt Elizabeth would let her.
"I can't do it if she doesn't approve," decided Emily.
Half-way home she suddenly stopped and laughed. After all, Miss Royal had forgotten to show her Chu-Chin.
"But it doesn't matter," she thought, "because in the first place I can't believe that, after this, I'll ever feel any real interest in chow dogs. And in the second place I'll see him often enough if I go to New York with Miss Royal."
CHAPTER 24. A VALLEY OF VISION
Would she go to New York with Miss Royal?
That was the question Emily had now to answer. Or rather, the question Aunt Elizabeth must answer. For on Aunt Elizabeth's answer, as Emily felt, everything depended. And she had no real hope that Aunt Elizabeth would let her go. Emily might look longingly towards those pleasant, far-off, green pastures pictured by Miss Royal, but she was quite sure she could never browse in them. The Murray pride... and prejudice... would be an impassable barrier.
Emily said nothing to Aunt Ruth about Miss Royal's offer. It was Aunt Elizabeth's due to hear it first. She kept her dazzling secret until the next week-end, when Miss Royal came to New Moon, very gracious and pleasant, and the wee-est bit patronizing, to ask Aunt Elizabeth to let Emily go with her.
Aunt Elizabeth listened in silence... a disapproving silence, as Emily felt.
"The Murray women have never had to work out for their living," she said coldly.
"It isn't exactly what you would call 'working out,' dear Miss Murray," said Miss Royal, with the courteous patience one must use to a lady whose viewpoint was that of an outlived generation. "Thousands of women are going into business and professional life, everywhere."
"I suppose it's all right for them if they don't get married," said Aunt Elizabeth.
Miss Royal flushed slightly. She knew that in Blair Water and Shrewsbury she was regarded as an old maid, and therefore a failure, no matter what her income and her standing might be in New York. But she kept her temper and tried another line of attack.
"Emily has an unusual gift for writing," she said. "I think she can do something really worth while if she gets a chance. She ought to have her chance, Miss Murray. You know there isn't any chance for that kind of work here."
"Emily has made ninety dollars this past year with her pen," said Aunt Elizabeth.
"Heaven grant me patience!" thought Miss Royal. Said Miss Royal,
"Yes, and ten years from now she may be making a few hundreds; whereas, if she comes with me, in ten years' time her income would probably be as many thousands."
"I'll have to think it over," said Aunt Elizabeth.
Emily felt surprised that Aunt Elizabeth had even consented to think it over. She had expected absolute refusal.
"She'll come round to it," whispered Miss Royal, when she went away. "I'm going to get you, darling Emily B. I know the Murrays of old. They always had an eye to the main chance. Aunty will let you come."
"I'm afraid not," said Emily ruefully.
When Miss Royal had gone Aunt Elizabeth looked at Emily.
"Would you like to go, Emily?"
"Yes... I think so... if you don't mind," faltered Emily. She was very pale... she did not plead or coax. But she had no hope... none.
Aunt Elizabeth took a week to think it over. She called in Ruth and Wallace and Oliver to help her. Ruth said dubiously,
"I suppose we ought to let her go. It's a splendid chance for her. It's not as if she were going alone... I'd never agree to that. Janet will look after her."
"She's too young... she's too young," said Uncle Oliver.
"It seems a good chance for her... Janet Royal has done well, they say," said Uncle Wallace.
Aunt Elizabeth even wrote to Great-aunt Nancy. The answer came back in Aunt Nancy's quavering hand:
"Suppose you let Emily decide for herself," suggested Aunt Nancy.
Aunt Elizabeth folded up Aunt Nancy's letter and called Emily into the parlour.