“And just think of the danger in bringing Clarabelle to us!” The huge apricot lap under Emily trembled as if it were being shaken by a violent earthquake.
“Well, I wanted so much to have you smiling and talking. Mrs. Poovey, why did it take you so very long? I began to think you never would speak.”
Mrs. Poovey traced a pattern on Clarabelle’s head with a delicate finger. “I believe I had forgotten how, and I believe Mrs. Loops was rapidly forgetting, too, like all of us. And you must remember how very frightened we all are. So very, very frightened of this house and of everyone in it.”
“Even of me?” asked Emily.
“Even of you, dear child—at first.” Mrs. Poovey sent Emily a smile that begged her forgiveness.
“But Mrs. Poovey,” Emily blurted out, “you dared to take the peppermints!” Then she gasped and threw her hands to her mouth. But it was too late, the words were out.
Mrs. Poovey stiffened. All sound was squeezed from the room by a silence as heavy as stone. The silence continued, until all at once it was shattered into a thousand tinkling bits by the sound of Mrs. Poovey’s tiny, silver bell laughter. A mischievous spark twinkled in her eyes. “Why so I did!” she exclaimed.
“You didn’t!” gasped Mrs. Loops, her extra chins quivering with delight.
“I did indeed!” retorted Mrs. Poovey.
“Well, I never!” said the beaming Mrs. Loops.
Emily would like to have stayed there the whole morning, enjoying this delightful scene, but she still had an entire attic-full of chores ahead of her. She slipped off Mrs. Loops’s expansive lap. “Please excuse me, but I do have to go on with my work.”
“Must you go so soon?” Mrs. Poovey asked. “It seems as if you’ve only just come.”
“I’ve been here much too long already,” Emily said. She picked up her bucket, and then thought of something. “Oh! Oh!”
“What’s the matter, child?” Mrs. Loops asked anxiously.
“What am I going to do with Clarabelle while I do the other rooms?” Emily moaned. “I would love to take her with me for the others to see, but I can’t. I haven’t time. What shall I do with her?”
The two old ladies exchanged glances. “Why, leave her here with us, of course!” said Mrs. Poovey.
“Are—are you certain it’s all right?” Emily asked.
“You needn’t have a moment’s worry, child,” Mrs. Poovey said. “She’ll be perfectly safe here, won’t she, Mrs. Loops?”
“Oh, perfectly!” said Mrs. Loops.
Emily’s happiness over what had happened in Mrs. Poovey’s and Mrs. Loops’s room was thoroughly dampened when she had to slosh and wash and dust and sweep before the silent, hopeless faces of Mr. Bottle and Mr. Dobbs, Mrs. Quirk and Mrs. Biggs. If only the kitten could be brought around to all of them! But Kipper had said that Emily could keep it for no more than two nights, and that put an end to the matter. She finished her chores and hurried back to retrieve Clarabelle.
Persuaded that the kitten’s safety was assured, Emily was stunned by the scene that met her when she returned to the room of the two old ladies. Both Mrs. Poovey and Mrs. Loops were sitting by their cots with faces as bleak and expressionless as two old stones. And Clarabelle was nowhere to be seen! But as Emily’s eyes scoured the room with horror, Mrs. Poovey and Mrs. Loops suddenly broke into tremulous smiles.
“My dear child, we are so sorry if we frightened you,” said Mrs. Poovey.
“Oh yes, dear, we only wanted to show you how very careful we would be if you—if you …” Mrs. Loops faltered, and turned to Mrs. Poovey.
“If you would only let us keep Clarabelle with us!” concluded Mrs. Poovey.
“K-k-keep Clarabelle?” stammered Emily. “Do you mean not take her back at all?”
“That is exactly what we mean!” said Mrs. Poovey. “We promise to take such good care of her, and we do so much want to share her with the others.”
Share Clarabelle with the others! Wasn’t that what Emily had wanted? “But—but where would you keep her? Wouldn’t it be too dangerous?”
Conspiracy twinkled in the look that danced from Mrs. Poovey to Mrs. Loops and back again. “Attics have all sorts of hidden nooks and crannies—” said Mrs. Poovey.
“Yes!” chimed in Mrs. Loops. “Behind doors and cupbo—” She stopped suddenly in blushing confusion as Mrs. Poovey sent her a warning cough.
“We think it safer, dear child, for you to know nothing about Clarabelle’s hiding places.” Mrs. Poovey paused before asking suddenly, “Does Tilly know of the kitten?”
“Oh no!” cried Emily. “No one knows of it except Kipper, who gave it to me.”
“Good!” said Mrs. Poovey firmly. “Now, will you let us keep Clarabelle?”
Emily needed only a few moments to decide on her answer. “Yes!” How she would face up to an angry Kipper she would think about later.
The two ladies clapped their hands in little-girl delight.
“Now I must hurry back to the kitchen,” Emily said. “I’ll try to come back later with food for Clarabelle.”
“Splendid!” exclaimed Mrs. Poovey. “But please, dear darling child,” she begged, “wait for one more moment. I want to give you a gift for all you have done for us.” As she was speaking, she daintily lifted her skirt and unpinned something from her petticoat. “Here, it is all I have left of value in this world, but I do want you to have it.”
Tears sprang to Emily’s eyes as Mrs. Poovey pressed into her hand a small cameo brooch of coral set in pure gold.
“Oh, Mrs. Poovey, why didn’t I think of doing that?” said Mrs. Loops. “How clever of you to have pinned the brooch to your petticoat. I would love to have something for Emily, but all my j-j-jewels were t-t-taken from my travelling bag before it came to this room.” She pressed a handkerchief to her eyes.
Jewels taken from Mrs. Loops’s travelling bag! Aunt
