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152
EMILY CLIMBS

then, for just a moment, a cool air current lifted the mist curtain and dim coasts loomed phantom-like around us. Then the blank whiteness shut down again. It was as though we sought some strange, enchanted shore that ever receded farther and farther. I was really sorry when we got to the wharf, but when I reached home I found Aunt Ruth all worked up on account of the fog.

“‘I knew I shouldn’t have allowed you to go,’ she said.

“‘There wasn’t any danger really, Aunt Ruth,’ I protested, ‘and look at my lovely May-flowers.’

“Aunt Ruth wouldn’t look at the May-flowers.

“‘No danger—in a white fog! Suppose you had got lost and a wind had come up before you reached land?’

“‘How could one get lost on little Shrewsbury harbour, Aunt Ruth?’ I said. ‘The fog was wonderful—wonderful. It just seemed as if we were voyaging over the planet’s rim into the depth of space.’

“I spoke enthusiastically and I suppose I looked a bit wild with mist drops on my hair, for Aunt Ruth said coldly, pityingly,

“‘It is unfortunate that you are so excitable, Emily.’

“It is maddening to be frozen and pitied, so I answered recklessly,

“‘But think of the fun you miss when you’re non-excitable, Aunt Ruth. There is nothing more wonderful than dancing around a blazing fire. What matter if it end in ashes?’

“‘When you are as old as I am,’ said Aunt Ruth, ‘you will have more sense than to go into ecstasies over white fogs.’

“It seems to me impossible that I shall either grow old or die. I know I will, of course, but I don’t believe it. I didn’t make any answer to Aunt Ruth, so she started on another tack.

“‘I was watching Ilse go past. Em’ly, does that girl wear any petticoats?’

“‘Her clothing is silk and purple,’ I murmured, quot-