Free Emily Climbs by L.M. Montgomery Page A

come with me. Choose, Teddy, for yourself. You shall not do her bidding. Choose!”
    She was fiercely dramatic again, as she lifted her hand and pointed it at poor Teddy.
    Teddy was feeling as miserable and impotently angry as any male creature does when two women are quarrelling about him in his presence. He wished himself a thousand miles away. What a mess to be in – and to be made ridiculous like this before Emily! Why on earth couldn’t his mother behave like other boys’ mothers? Why must she be so intense and exacting? He knew Blair Water gossip said she was “a little touched.” He did not believe that. But – but – well, in short here
was
a mess. You came back to that every time. What on earth was he to do? If he took Emily home he knew his mother would cry and pray for days. On the other hand to desert Emily after her dreadful experience in the church, and leave her to traverse that lonely road alone was unthinkable. But Emily now dominated the situation. She was very angry, with the icy anger of old Hugh Murray that did not dissipate itself in idle bluster, but went straight to the point.
    “You are a foolish, selfish woman,” she said, “and you will make your son hate you.”
    “Selfish! You call me selfish,” sobbed Mrs. Kent. “I live only for Teddy – he is all I have to live for.”
    “You
are
selfish.” Emily was standing straight: her eyes had gone black: her voice was cutting: “the Murray look” was on her face, and in the pale moonlight it was a rather fearsome thing. She wondered, as she spoke, how she knew certain things. But she
did
know them. “You think you love him – it is only yourself you love. You are determined to spoil his life. You won’t let him go to Shrewsbury because it will hurt you to let him go away from you. You have let your jealousy of everything he caresfor eat your heart out, and master you. You won’t bear a little pain for his sake. You are not a mother at all. Teddy has a great talent – every one says so. You ought to be proud of him – you ought to give him his chance. But you won’t – and some day he will hate you for it – yes, he will.”
    “Oh, no, no,” moaned Mrs. Kent. She held up her hands as if to ward off a blow and shrank back against Teddy. “Oh, you are cruel – cruel. You don’t know what I’ve suffered – you don’t know what ache is always at my heart. He is all I have – all. I have nothing else – not even a memory. You don’t understand. I can’t – I can’t give him up.”
    “If you let your jealousy ruin his life you will lose him,” said Emily inexorably. She had always been afraid of Mrs. Kent. Now she was suddenly no longer afraid of her – she knew she would never be afraid of her again. “You hate everything he cares for – you hate his friends and his dog and his drawing. You know you do. But you can’t keep him that way, Mrs. Kent. And you will find it out when it is too late. Good-night, Teddy. Thank you again for coming to my rescue. Goodnight, Mrs. Kent.”
    Emily’s good-night was very final. She turned and stalked across the green without another glance, holding her head high. Down the wet road she marched – at first very angry – then, as anger ebbed, very tired – oh, horribly tired. She discovered that she was fairly shaking with weariness. The emotions of the night had exhausted her, and now – what to do? She did not like the idea of going home to New Moon. Emily felt that she could never face outraged Aunt Elizabeth if the various scandalous doings of this night should be discovered. She turned in at the gate of Dr. Burnley’s house. His doors were never locked. Emily slipped into the front hall as the dawn began to whiten in the sky and curled up on thelounge behind the staircase. There was no Ilse in waking Ilse. She would tell her the whole story in the morning and bind her to secrecy – all, at least, except one thing Teddy had said, and the episode of Mrs. Kent. One was too