At the bottom of the box was
a little brown book.
It was small and thin, like a girl's exercise book, with leaves
that had once been blue and pink, but were now quite faded, and
stained in places. On the fly leaf was written, in a very
delicate hand, "Emily Margaret Leith," and the same writing
covered the first few pages of the book. The rest were not
written on at all. We sat there on the floor, Diana and I, and
read the little book together, while the rain thudded against the
window panes.
June 19, 18--
I came to-day to spend a while with Aunt Margaret in
Charlottetown. It is so pretty here, where she lives--and
ever so much nicer than on the farm at home. I have no cows
to milk here or pigs to feed. Aunt Margaret has given me
such a lovely blue muslin dress, and I am to have it made to
wear at a garden party out at Brighton next week. I never
had a muslin dress before--nothing but ugly prints and dark
woolens. I wish we were rich, like Aunt Margaret. Aunt
Margaret laughed when I said this, and declared she would
give all her wealth for my youth and beauty and
light-heartedness. I am only eighteen and I know I am very
merry but I wonder if I am really pretty. It seems to me
that I am when I look in Aunt Margaret's beautiful mirrors.
They make me look very different from the old cracked one in
my room at home which always twisted my face and turned me
green.
Pages:
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139