The minute she clapped eyes on Prissy she suspected something.
It wasn't any wonder, for there was Prissy, all dressed up, with flushed
cheeks and shining eyes. She was all in a quiver of excitement,
and looked ten years younger.
"Priscilla Strong, you've been expecting Stephen Clark
here this evening!" burst out Emmeline. "You wicked,
deceitful, underhanded, ungrateful creature!"
And she went on storming at Prissy, who began to cry, and looked so weak
and babyish that I was frightened she would betray the whole thing.
"This is between you and Prissy, Emmeline," I struck in,
"and I'm not going to interfere. But I want to get you to come
over and show me how to tuft my comfort that new pattern you
learned in Avonlea, and as it had better be done before dark
I wish you'd come right away."
"I s'pose I'll go," said Emmeline ungraciously, "but Priscilla
shall come, too, for I see that she isn't to be trusted out
of my sight after this."
I hoped Stephen would see us from the garret window and make good
his escape. But I didn't dare trust to chance, so when I got Emmeline
safely to work on my comfort I excused myself and slipped out.
Luckily my kitchen was on the off side of the house, but I
was a nervous woman as I rushed across to the Strong place
and dashed up Emmeline's garret stairs to Stephen.
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