Be Courteous | Page 6

have long
wanted to speak with you," said she.
"That is very polite," thought Mary; "I suppose it is what well-bred
people generally say. I have really wanted to hear her speak, though I
won't say so, for she will think that I am only trying to be polite."
Emma took off her sun-bonnet when riding through the woods, and told
Mary how happy it made her to hear the birds sing, and to breathe the
sweet fragrance which came from the hay-meadows; but Mary felt
diffident, and did not reply warmly, as she felt. She called Emma Miss
Lindsay; so Emma felt obliged to call her Miss Palmer, though she
longed to put her arms around her, as they sat upon the box, and call
her Mary.
All this time the company in the rear were talking in this way:--
"I suppose," said Fanny Brighton, "that this little chicky-dandy thinks
she has done us a great favor, by condescending to ride in a wagon, and
upon a box. If she shows off any of her aristocratic airs to me, I will
soon make her understand that her room is better than her company."
"What a milk-and-water looking thing she is," said Alice More; "they
had better have kept their cosset at home; she will be calling, 'ma! ma!'
before night."
"And we will answer, 'bah!'" said Josh Cheever, as Susan Sliver put her
hand over his mouth, for fear that he would give a sample.
Arrived at the plains, the wagons were turned a little into the shrubbery,
so as not to obstruct the passage of the narrow road; then the company
alighted, while Henry and Joshua led the horses to one of the large trees,
(of which there were, as we have already said, but few,) each carrying a
bundle of hay under his arm.
In the mean time Mary introduced the young ladies severally to Emma.
Alice More professed herself very glad to see her; but this profession,

for some reason, seemed to give Emma pain. Fanny made no
professions at all, only coldly nodding a "how-d'ye-do," without
appearing to notice that Emma wished to shake hands. The Misses
Sliver were cordial enough, but too sentimental for the occasion; Miss
Susan, using the language of some novel she had read, said, she hoped
to find in Emma a "kindred spirit;" at which remark Fanny laughed
outright, saying she hoped that "Sliver Crook" and "Snag Orchard"
would not become etherialized.
"I cannot talk in that way," thought Mary; "so I will go by myself, and
pick berries, leaving Miss Lindsay with them." Mary felt, however, that
she should like to be somewhere near Emma; so she only withdrew a
little way, sitting down where she could see her through the bushes.
Alice chattered away very freely for a time, and then wandered off in
pursuit of Fanny, who, from the first, had not addressed a single word
to Emma. But the Misses Sliver kept near her, and seemed to be
making themselves very agreeable. Mary heard them mention at least a
dozen books, of which she had not heard even the titles before, and she
was glad for having left Emma with those who could talk of such
matters. She watched her though, as she bent over the blueberry bushes,
and fancied that she looked sad. Then after a time she saw her sit down
upon a log, looking very languid and weary. Mary had brought a bottle
of nice milk from home that morning, and the thought crossed her mind
that a draught of that milk might be refreshing to Emma; so she took a
bright little dipper from her basket, and ran off toward the wagon.
"Where are you going, Mary Palmer?" said Alice, whom she met on the
way.
"Miss Lindsay looks very pale and tired," said Mary. "I am going to
carry her some of my nice milk."
"I would do no such thing," said Alice; "she is used to having a host of
servants at her heels, and thinks that we country girls will act as her
lackies. If she wants refreshment, tell her where it is, and let her go for
it herself."
"Why, Alice," replied Mary, "you told her this morning that you were
very glad to see her, and now you have no interest in making her either
comfortable or happy."
"To be sure," said Alice; "do you suppose that I was going to say, 'I am
not at all glad to see you, Miss Prim--I am mad enough with Henry

Boyd to pull his ears, because he went to your house for you?' You
would not have had me say so; but these were my feelings; so what am
I to do?"
"I know what I would do," said Mary, firmly.