Read Online Emily Climbs by L.M. Montgomery - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: L.M. Montgomery
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slowly, “I called for you when I saw Mad Mr. Morrison first. But, Teddy, you couldn’t have heard me – you
couldn’t
. The Tansy Patch is a mile from here.”
“I
did
hear you,” said Teddy, stubbornly. “I was asleep and it woke me up. You called ‘Teddy, Teddy, save me’ – it was your voice as plain as I ever heard it in my life. I got right up and hurried on my clothes and came here as fast as I could.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“Why – I don’t know,” said Teddy confusedly. “I didn’t stop to think – I just seemed to
know
you were in the church when I heard you calling me, and I must get here as quick as I could. It’s – it’s all – funny,” he concluded lamely.
“It’s – it’s – it frightens me a little.” Emily shivered. “Aunt Elizabeth says I have second sight – you remember Ilse’s mother? Mr. Carpenter says I’m psychic – I don’t know just what that means, but think I’d rather not be it.”
She shivered again. Teddy thought she was cold and, having nothing else to put around her, put his arm – somewhat tentatively, since Murray pride and Murray dignity might be outraged. Emily was not cold in body, but a little chill had blown over her soul. Something supernatural – some mystery she could not understand – had brushed too near her in that strange summoning. Involuntarily she nestled a little closer to Teddy, acutely conscious of the boyish tenderness she sensed behind the aloofness of his boyish shyness. Suddenly she knew that she liked Teddy better than anybody – better even than Aunt Laura or Ilse or Dean.
Teddy’s arm tightened a little.
“Anyhow, I’m glad I got here in time,” he said. “If I hadn’t that crazy old man might have frightened you to death.”
They sat so for a few minutes in silence. Everything seemed very wonderful and beautiful – and a little unreal. Emily thought she must be in a dream, or in one of her own wonder tales. The storm had passed, and the moon was shining clearly once more. The cool fresh air was threaded with beguiling voices – the fitful voice of raindrops falling from the shaken boughs of the maple woods behind them – the freakish voice of the Wind Woman around the white church – the far-off, intriguing Voice of the sea – and, still finer and rarer, the little, remote, detached voices of the night. Emily heard them all, more with the ears of her soul than of her body, it seemed, as she had never heard them before. Beyond were fields and groves and roads, pleasantly suggestive and elusive, as if brooding over elfish secrets in the moonlight.Silver-white daisies were nodding and swaying all over the graveyard above graves remembered and graves forgotten. An owl laughed delightfully to itself in the old pine. At the magical sound Emily’s mystic flash swept over her, swaying her like a strong wind. She felt as if she and Teddy were all alone in a wonderful new world, created for themselves only out of youth and mystery and delight. They seemed, themselves, to be part of the faint, cool fragrance of the night, of the owl’s laughter, of the daisies blowing in the shadowy air.
As for Teddy, he was thinking that Emily looked very sweet in the pale moonshine, with her fringed, mysterious eyes and the little dark love-curls clinging to her ivory neck. He tightened his arm a little more – and still Murray pride and Murray dignity made not a particle of protest.
“Emily,” whispered Teddy, “you’re the sweetest girl in the world.”
The words have been said so often by so many millions of lads to so many millions of lasses, that they ought to be worn to tatters. But when you hear them for the first time, in some magic hour of your teens, they are as new and fresh and wondrous as if they had just drifted over the hedges of Eden. Madam, whoever you are, and however old you are, be honest, and admit that the first time you heard those words on the lips of some shy sweetheart, was the great
couldn’t
. The Tansy Patch is a mile from here.”
“I
did
hear you,” said Teddy, stubbornly. “I was asleep and it woke me up. You called ‘Teddy, Teddy, save me’ – it was your voice as plain as I ever heard it in my life. I got right up and hurried on my clothes and came here as fast as I could.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“Why – I don’t know,” said Teddy confusedly. “I didn’t stop to think – I just seemed to
know
you were in the church when I heard you calling me, and I must get here as quick as I could. It’s – it’s all – funny,” he concluded lamely.
“It’s – it’s – it frightens me a little.” Emily shivered. “Aunt Elizabeth says I have second sight – you remember Ilse’s mother? Mr. Carpenter says I’m psychic – I don’t know just what that means, but think I’d rather not be it.”
She shivered again. Teddy thought she was cold and, having nothing else to put around her, put his arm – somewhat tentatively, since Murray pride and Murray dignity might be outraged. Emily was not cold in body, but a little chill had blown over her soul. Something supernatural – some mystery she could not understand – had brushed too near her in that strange summoning. Involuntarily she nestled a little closer to Teddy, acutely conscious of the boyish tenderness she sensed behind the aloofness of his boyish shyness. Suddenly she knew that she liked Teddy better than anybody – better even than Aunt Laura or Ilse or Dean.
Teddy’s arm tightened a little.
“Anyhow, I’m glad I got here in time,” he said. “If I hadn’t that crazy old man might have frightened you to death.”
They sat so for a few minutes in silence. Everything seemed very wonderful and beautiful – and a little unreal. Emily thought she must be in a dream, or in one of her own wonder tales. The storm had passed, and the moon was shining clearly once more. The cool fresh air was threaded with beguiling voices – the fitful voice of raindrops falling from the shaken boughs of the maple woods behind them – the freakish voice of the Wind Woman around the white church – the far-off, intriguing Voice of the sea – and, still finer and rarer, the little, remote, detached voices of the night. Emily heard them all, more with the ears of her soul than of her body, it seemed, as she had never heard them before. Beyond were fields and groves and roads, pleasantly suggestive and elusive, as if brooding over elfish secrets in the moonlight.Silver-white daisies were nodding and swaying all over the graveyard above graves remembered and graves forgotten. An owl laughed delightfully to itself in the old pine. At the magical sound Emily’s mystic flash swept over her, swaying her like a strong wind. She felt as if she and Teddy were all alone in a wonderful new world, created for themselves only out of youth and mystery and delight. They seemed, themselves, to be part of the faint, cool fragrance of the night, of the owl’s laughter, of the daisies blowing in the shadowy air.
As for Teddy, he was thinking that Emily looked very sweet in the pale moonshine, with her fringed, mysterious eyes and the little dark love-curls clinging to her ivory neck. He tightened his arm a little more – and still Murray pride and Murray dignity made not a particle of protest.
“Emily,” whispered Teddy, “you’re the sweetest girl in the world.”
The words have been said so often by so many millions of lads to so many millions of lasses, that they ought to be worn to tatters. But when you hear them for the first time, in some magic hour of your teens, they are as new and fresh and wondrous as if they had just drifted over the hedges of Eden. Madam, whoever you are, and however old you are, be honest, and admit that the first time you heard those words on the lips of some shy sweetheart, was the great
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