gether. She knew it would cause a tremendous upheaval at New Moon. Never mind. In her very reckless mood upheavals seemed welcome things. It was time somebody upheaved. She would not humiliate herself another day—that she would not! Aunt Ruth had gone too far at last. You could not safely drive a Starr to desperation.
“I have done with Ruth Dutton forever,” vowed Emily, feeling a tremendous satisfaction in leaving off the “Aunt.”
As she drew near home the clouds cleared away suddenly, and when she turned into the New Moon lane the austere beauty of the three tall Lombardies against the moonlit sky made her catch her breath. Oh, how wonderful! For a moment she almost forgot her wrongs and Aunt Ruth. Then bitterness rushed over her soul again—not even the magic of the Three Princesses could charm it away.
There was a light shining out of the New Moon kitchen window, falling on the tall, white birches in Lofty John’s bush with spectral effect. Emily wondered who could be up at New Moon: she had expected to find it in darkness and had meant to slip in by the front door and up to her own dear room, leaving explanations to the morning. Aunt Elizabeth always locked and barred the kitchen door every night with great ceremony before retiring, but the front door was never locked. Tramps and burglars would surely never be so ill-mannered as to come to the front door of New Moon.
Emily crossed the garden and peeped through the kitchen window. Cousin Jimmy was there alone, sitting by the table, with two candles for company. On the table was a stoneware crock and just as Emily looked in he absently put his hand into it and drew out a chubby doughnut. Cousin Jimmy’s eyes were fixed on a big beef ham pendent from the ceiling and Cousin Jimmy’s lips moved soundlessly. There was no reasonable doubt
