Welcome to sleep stories with Steph your go-to podcast.
That offers you a calm and relaxing transition to sleep.
Into a great night's sleep.
It is time to relax and fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now.
And know where you need to go.
Close your eyes.
And feel yourself sink into the support beneath you.
And let all the worries of the day go.
Drift away.
This is your time.
And your space.
Take a deep breath in through your nose.
And let it out with a long sigh.
That's it!
There is nothing you need to be doing now.
And know where you need to go.
Happy listening.
Chapter 10 growing pains.
There was a great deal of suppressed excitement in school during the last week in June,
The cause thereof being Rhoda Stewart's birthday party,
Which was to take place early in July.
The amount of heart burning was incredible.
Who was to be invited?
That was the great question.
There were some who knew they wouldn't and some who knew they would.
But there were more who were in truly horrible suspense.
Everybody paid court to Emily because she was Rhoda's dearest friend and might conceivably have some voice in the selection of guests.
Jenny Strang even went as far as bluntly to offer Emily a beautiful white box with a gorgeous picture of Queen Victoria on the cover to keep her pencils in if she would procure her an invitation.
Emily refused the bribe and said grandly she could not interfere in such a delicate matter.
Emily really did put on some airs about it.
She was sure of her invitation.
Rhoda had told her about the party weeks before and talked it over with her.
It was to be a very grand affair.
A birthday cake covered with pink icing and adorned with ten tall pink candles,
Ice cream and oranges,
And written invitations on pink gilt-edged notepaper sent through the post office this last being an added touch of exclusiveness.
Emily dreamed about that party day and night.
And had her present all ready for Rhoda,
A pretty hair ribbon which Aunt Laura had brought from Shrewsbury.
On the first Sunday in July,
Emily found herself sitting beside Jenny Strang in Sunday School for the opening exercises.
Generally she and Rhoda sat together but now Rhoda was sitting three seats ahead with a strange little girl A very gay and gorgeous little girl dressed in blue silk with a large flower-wreathed leghorn hat on her elaborately curled hair.
White lace stockings on her pudgy legs and a bang that came clean down to her eyes.
Not all her fine feathers could make a really fine bird of her,
However.
She was not in the least pretty and her expression was cross and contemptuous.
Who's the girl sitting with Rhoda?
Whispered Emily.
Oh,
She's Muriel Porter,
Answered Jenny.
She's a townie,
You know.
She's come to spend her vacation with her Aunt Jane Beattie.
I hate her.
If I was her,
I'd never dream of wearing blue with skin as dark as hers.
But the Portas are rich and Muriel thinks she's a wonder.
They say Rhoda and her have been awful thick since she came out.
Rhoda's always chasing after anybody she thinks is up in the world.
Emily Stiffened She was not going to listen to disparaging remarks about her friends.
Jenny felt the stiffening and changed her tone.
Anyway,
I'm glad I'm not invited to Rhoda's old party.
I wouldn't want to go where Muriel Porter will be there putting on her airs.
How do you know you're not invited?
Wondered Emily.
The invitations went out yesterday,
Didn't you get yours?
Now.
.
.
Did you get your mail?
Yes,
Cousin Jimmy got it.
Well,
Maybe Mrs Beecher forgot to give it to him.
Likely you'll get it tomorrow.
Emily agreed it was likely,
But a queer cold sensation of dismay had invaded her being,
Which was not removed by the fact that after Sunday school,
Rhoda strutted away with Muriel Porter without a glance at anyone else.
On Monday,
Emily herself went to the post office.
There is no pink envelope for her.
She cried herself to sleep that night.
But did not quite give up hope until Tuesday had passed.
Then she faced the terrible truth.
She,
Emily Byrd's star of New Moon,
Had not been invited to Rhoda's party.
The thing was incredible.
There must be a mistake.
Had Cousin Jimmy lost the invitation on the road home?
Had Rhoda's grown-up sister who wrote the invitations overlooked her name?
Had.
Emily's unhappy doubts were forever resolved into bitter certainty by Jenny,
Who joined her as she left the post office.
There was a malicious light in Jenny's beady eyes.
Jenny liked Emily quite well by now,
In spite of their passagered arms on the day of their first meeting.
But she liked to see her pride humbled for all that.
So you're not invited to Rhoda's party after all then?
Admitted Emily.
It was a very bitter moment for her.
The Murray pride was sorely wrong.
And beneath the Murray Pride,
Something else had been grievously wounded,
But was not yet quite dead.
Well,
I call it dirt mean,
Said Jenny.
Quite honestly sympathetic in spite of her secret satisfaction.
After all the fuss she made over you too.
But that's Rhoda Stewart all over.
Deceitful is no name for her.
I don't think she's deceitful,
" said Emily,
Loyal to the last ditch.
I believe there's some mistake about me not being invited.
Jenny stared.
Then you don't know the reason.
Why,
Beth Beattie told me the whole story!
Muriel Porter hates you and she just up and told Rhoda she'd not go to her party if you were invited.
Rhoda was so crazy to have a town girl there she promised she wouldn't invite you.
Me royal porter doesn't know me,
Gasped Emily.
How can she hate me?
Jenny grinned impishly.
I can tell you she's dead stuck on Fred Stewart and Fred knows it and teased her by praising you up to her told her you were the sweetest girl in Blair Water and he meant to have you for his girl when you were a little older and Muriel was so mad and jealous she made Rhoda leave you out I wouldn't care if I were you.
A Murray of New Moon is way above such trash.
And as for Rhoda not being deceitful,
I can tell you she is.
But she told you she didn't know that snake was in the box when it was her thought of doing it in the first place.
Emily was too crushed to reply.
She was glad Jenny had to switch off down her own lane and leave her alone.
She hurried home,
Afraid she could not keep the tears back until she got there.
Disappointment about the party,
Humiliation over the insult,
All were swallowed up in the anguish of faith betrayed at a trust,
Outraged.
Her love of Rhoda was quite dead now,
And Emily started to think the pain of the blow that had killed it was a child's tragedy.
And all the more bitter for that,
Since there was no one to understand.
Aunt Elizabeth told her birthday parties were all nonsense and the Stuarts were not a family that the Murrays had ever associated with.
Even Aunt Laura,
Though she petted and comforted,
Did not realise how deep and gravious Emily's hurt had been.
And so much so that she could not even write to it about to her father.
So she had no outlet for the violence of emotion that wracked her being.
The next Sunday,
Rhoda was alone in Sunday School.
Muriel Porter had suddenly been summoned back to her town by her father's illness.
Rhoda looked sweetly towards Emily but Emily sailed past her with head held very high.
She would never have anything to do with Rhoda Stewart again.
She despised her forever for trying to get back with her now that the town girl had gone.
It was not for Rhoda she mourned,
It was for the friendship that had been so dear to her.
Rhoda had been doing sweet on the surface at least.
And Emily found intense happiness in their companionship.
But now that was gone and she could never ever trust anyone or love anyone.
Ever again.
This poisoned everything.
Emily's star was of a nature which even as a child did not readily recover from or forget such a blow.
She moped about New Moon.
She lost her appetite and she grew thin.
She hated to go to Sunday school now because she thought the other girls exulted in her humiliation.
Some slight feeling of the kind there was,
Perhaps,
But Emily morbidly exaggerated it.
If two girls whispered or giggled,
She thought she was being discussed and laughed at.
And so it was for a whole month,
Emily was the most unhappy little being in Blair Water.
I think I must have been put under a curse at birth.
She reflected disconsolately.
Aunt Elizabeth had a more prosaic idea to account for Emily's languor and lack of appetite.
She came to the conclusion Emily's heavy masses of hair took from her strength.
And she would be much stronger and better if it were cut off.
Aunt Elizabeth to decide was to act.
One morning she coolly informed Emily her hair was to be shingled.
Emily could not believe her ears.
You don't mean you're going to cut off my hair?
Yes,
I mean exactly that.
Said Aunt Elizabeth firmly.
You have entirely too much,
Especially for hot weather.
I feel that is why you've been so miserable lately.
Now I don't want any more crying.
Emily could not keep the tears back.
Cut it all off,
" she pleaded.
Just cut a good big bang.
Lots of the girls have their hair banged clean from the crown of their heads.
That would take half my hair off and the rest won't take too much strength.
There will be no bangs here.
St Aunt Elizabeth,
I've told you often enough,
I'm going to shingle your hair close all over your head for the hot weather.
You'll be thankful to me someday for it.
Emily felt anything but thankful just then.
It's my one beauty,
" she sobbed.
Hitting my lashes.
I suppose you want to cut those off too.
Aunt Elizabeth did distrust those long up-curled fringes of Emily's which were an inheritance from the girlish stepmother and too un-Murray-like to be approved.
But she had no designs against them.
However,
The hair must go.
She bade Emily wait there without any fuss until she got the scissors.
When she returned with the scissors,
They clicked suggestively as she opened them.
Emily turned deliberately around and faced her aunt.
She felt her brows drawing together in an unaccustomed way.
She felt an up-brush as from unknown depths of some irresistible surge of energy.
Aunt Elizabeth,
She said,
Looking straight at the lady with the scissors.
My hair is not going to be cut off.
Let me hear no more of this.
An amazing thing happened to Aunt Elizabeth just then.
She turned pale,
Laid the scissors down and looked at Das for one moment.
For the first time in her life.
Elizabeth Murray turned tail and fled,
Literally fled to the kitchen.
What is the matter,
Elizabeth?
Cried Laura,
Coming in from the cookhouse.
I saw father looking from her face.
Gasped Elizabeth.
And she said,
Let me hear no more of this just like he always said it.
It was rather a curious fact that from that day,
Emily ceased to grieve over her lost friend.
The matter had suddenly become of small importance.
It was as if it had happened so long ago.
She'd frightened herself standing up to her auntie.
And now everything else paled into insignificance.
Aunt Elizabeth did get even within the week though.
Emily was to go on an errand to the shop.
It was a broiling day and she'd been allowed to go barefooted at home,
But now she must put on boots and stockings.
Emily rebelled,
It was too hot and dusty.
But no Murray must be seen barefooted away from home,
So on the boots went.
She did her errand.
And returned with an untroubled conscience.
The minute she was outside the New Moon Gate,
She deliberately sat down,
Took them off,
Stowed them in a hole in the dike and pranced away barefooted.
How beautiful the world was,
Thought Emily.
How softly blue was the great round Blair water.
How glorious the miracle of buttercups in the wet field below lofty John's bush.
Buttercup flower of the yellow dye,
I see thy cheerful face,
Greeting and nodding everywhere,
Careless of time and place.
In boggy field or public road or cultured gardens pale,
You'll sport your petals satin soft and down within the veil.
So far so good,
She had composed a verse of poetry.
Walking dreamily home again,
By the time she reached New Moon,
She'd got her last verse and was reciting it to herself.
You cast your loveliness around,
Where'er you shall chance to be,
And you shall always,
Buttercup,
Be a flower dear to me.
Emily felt very proud.
This was her third poem and undoubtedly her best.
No one could say it was very blank.
She must hurry up to the garret and write it on a letter bill.
But Aunt Elizabeth was confronting her on the steps.
Emily,
Where are your boots and stockings?
Emily came back from Cloudland with a disagreeable jolt.
She had forgotten all about boots and stockings.
In the hole by the gate,
" she said flatly.
You enter the store barefooted.
After I told you not to.
This seemed to Emily a superfluous question so she did not answer it.
But Aunt Elizabeth's turn had come.
