Emily Of New Moon - Guided Literature

Emily of New Moon is the first in a series of novels by Lucy Maud Montgomery about a Canadian orphan girl growing up in Prince Edward Island. Montgomery is also the author of the Anne of Green Gables series. It was first published in 1923.

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Transcript

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 4 A family conclave. Emily awakened at daylight the next morning. Through her long uncurtained window, The splendour of the sunrise was coming in, And one faint white star was still lingering in the crystal green sky over the rooster pine. A fresh sweet wind of dawn was blowing around the eaves. Ellen Green was sleeping in the big bed and snoring soundly. Except for that the little house was very still. It was the chance for which Emily had waited. Very carefully she slipped from her bed, Tiptoed across the room and opened the door. Mike uncurled himself from the mat on the middle of the door and followed her, Rubbing his warm sides against her chilly little ankles. Almost guiltily, She crept down the bare, Dark staircase. How the steps creaked. Surely it would awaken everyone. But nobody appeared and Emily got down and slipped into the parlour, Drawing a long breath of relief as she closed the door. She almost ran across the room to the other door. Aunt Ruth's floral pillow still covered the glass of the casket. Emily, With a tightening of the lips that gave her face an odd resemblance to Aunt Elizabeth, Lifted up the pillow and set it on the floor. Oh, Father. Father, She whispered, Putting her hand to her throat to keep something down. She stood there a little shivering white clad figure and looked at her father. This was to be her goodbye. She must say it when they were alone together. She would not say it before the Murrays. Her father looked so beautiful. All the lines of pain had vanished, And his face looked almost like a boy's except for the silver hair above it. He was smiling, Such a nice, Whimsical, Wise little smile, As if he'd suddenly discovered something lovely and unexpected. And surprising. Emily had seen many nice smiles on his face in life. But she had never seen one like this. I didn't cry before them. She whispered. I'm sure I didn't disgrace the stars. Not shaking hands with Aunt Ruth wasn't disgracing the stars, Was it? Because you didn't really want me to! Father, I don't think any of them like me. Unless perhaps Aunt Laura does a little. And I'm going to cry a little bit now because I can't keep it back all the time. She laid her face on the cold glass and sobbed bitterly. She must say goodbye before anyone found her. Raising her head, She looked long and earnestly. At the beloved face. Goodbye dearest darling. She whispered chokingly. Dashing away her blinding tears, She replaced Aunt Ruth's pillow, Hiding her father's face from her. Forever. Then she slipped out, Intent on speedily regaining her room. At the door, She almost fell over Cousin Jimmy, Who was sitting on a chair before it, Swathed in a huge checked dressing gown and nursing mic. He whispered, Patting her on the shoulder. I heard you coming down and I followed you. I knew what you wanted. I'll be sitting here to keep them out if anyone came after you. Now take this and hurry back to your bed. This was a roll of peppermint lozenges. Emily clutched it and fled, Overcome with shame at being seen by Cousin Jimmy in her nightgown. She hated peppermints and she never ate them, But the fact of Cousin Jimmy Murray's kindness in giving them to her sent a thrill of delight to her heart. She had never thought anyone would call her nice pet names. Father had had so many of them for her, Sweetheart and darling and Emily child. He had a pet name for every mood and she'd love them all. As for Cousin Jimmy, He called her Little Pussy. And whatever. And she liked that. She felt so grateful to him that she was safely in her bed again and forced herself to eat one of the lozenges. Although it took all her grit to worry it down. The funeral was held that afternoon. For once the lonesome little house in the hollow was filled. The coffin was taken into the parlour and the Murries and Mourners sat stiffly and decorously all around it. Emily was among them, Pale and prim in her black dress. She sat between Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Wallace and dared not move a muscle. None of the other stars were present. Her father had no near living relatives. The Maywood people came and looked at his dead face with a freedom and insolent curiosity they would never have presumed on in life. Emily hated to have them looking at her father like that. They had no right. They hadn't been friendly to him when he was alive. They'd said harsh things of him. Every glance that fell on him hurt Emily. But she sat still and gave no outward sign. Aunt Ruth said afterwards she'd never seen a child so absolutely devoid of all natural feeling. When the service was over, The Murrays rose and marched around the coffin for a dutiful look of farewell. Aunt Elizabeth took Emily's hand and tried to draw her along with them. But Emily pulled it back and shook her head. She had said her goodbye already. Aunt Elizabeth seemed for a moment to be on the point of insisting, Then she grimly swept onward alone, Looking every inch a-murray. No scene must be made at a funeral. Douglas Starr was to be taken to Charlottetown for burial beside his wife. The Murrays were all going, They said, But Emily was not to go. She watched the funeral procession. As it wound up the long grassy hill. Through the light grey rain that was beginning to fall. Emily was glad it was raining. Many a time she'd heard Ellen Greene say that happy was the corpse the rain fell on. And it was easier to see Father go away in that soft, Kind, Green mist than through sparkling, Laughing sunshine. Well, I must say the funeral went off fine, " said Ellen Green at her shoulder. Everything's been done regardless. If your father was looking down from heaven, I'm sure he'd be pleased. He isn't in heaven. To family. Gracious of all the children. Ellen could say no more. He isn't there yet, He's on the way. He said he'd wait around and go slow until I died too so I could catch up with him. I hope I'll die soon. That's a wicked thing to wish! Rebuked Helen. When the last buggy had disappeared, Emily went back to the sitting room, Got a book out of the bookcase and buried herself in the winged chair. The women who were tidying up were glad that she was quiet and out of the way. Is as well she can read, " said Mrs Hubbard gloomily. Some little girls can be so composed. Jenny who just screamed and shrieked after they carried her mother out. The hoods are all such failing people. Emily was not reading, She was thinking. She knew the Murrays would be back in the afternoon and she knew her fate would probably be settled then. We'll talk over the matter when we come back, " she heard Uncle Wallace saying that morning after breakfast. So she was not surprised when Ellen came to her in the twilight and said You better go upstairs, Emily. Your uncles and aunts are coming in to talk over the business. Can't I help you get supper? " asked Emily, Who thought if she was going and coming around the kitchen she might catch a word or two. No, You'd be more bother than help. Now quick march. Then Ellen waddled out to the kitchen without waiting to see if Emily marched at all. Emily meanwhile got up reluctantly. How could she sleep tonight if she did not know what was going to happen to her? Her eyes fell on the oblong table in the centre of the room. Its cloth was of generous proportions, Falling in heavy folds to the floor. There was a flash of black stockings across the rug. A sudden disturbance of drapery. And then silence. Emily, On the floor under the table, Arranged her legs comfortably and sat triumphant. She would hear what was decided. And no one would be any the wiser. She had never been told it was not considered strictly honourable to eavesdrop. No occasion for such instruction ever having arisen in her life with her father. And Emily considered it was a bit of luck she'd thought of hiding under the table. She could even see dimly through the cloth. Her heart beat so loudly in her excitement she was afraid they would hear it. There was no other sound save the soft faraway singing of frogs through the rain. And in they came. Sat down, And Emily held her breath. For a few minutes no one spoke, Although Aunt Eva sighed long and heavily. And Uncle Wallace cleared his throat and said, Well, What's to be done with a child? She's such a difficult child. I can't understand her at all! Sit on Tivo with a wine. I think, " Aunt Laura said timidly. That she has what one might call an artistic temperament. She's a spoiled child, " said Aunt Ruth very decidedly. There's work ahead to straighten out her matters, If you ask me. I agree with you, " said Aunt Eva, And I for one do not feel equal to the task. The truth is. . . Said Uncle Wallace. Aunt Nancy ought to take her. She has more of this world's goods than any of us. Our Nancy would never dream of taking home and you know it well enough, " said Uncle Oliver. I would like to take Emily but I feel I can hardly do it. I have a large family to provide for. She'll not likely live to bother anyone long enough. She'll probably die of consumption same as her father did. Said Aunt Elizabeth crisply. She is a weedy looking child, Acknowledged Uncle Wallace. Someone has to look after her as long as she's alive, You know, " said Uncle Oliver. Poor little soul, Said Aunt Laura gently. I think it's perfectly disgraceful for him to die and leave that child without a cent. To daunt Ruth in a biting tone. Did he do it on purpose? " asked Cousin Jimmy, Blandly. He was a miserable failure, Snapped Aunt Ruth. He wasn't! He wasn't! " screamed Emily, Suddenly sticking her head out from underneath the tablecloth. For a moment, The Murray sat as silent and motionless as if her outburst had turned them to stone. Then Aunt Ruth rose, Stalked to the table and lifted the cloth, Behind which Emily had retired in dismay, Realising what she had done. Get up and come out of that Emily, Stop! So, It's an art route. What a little beauty! " said Cousin Jimmy, But no one heard him. You shameless little eavesdropper! " said Aunt Ruth. There's the star blood coming out in you. And Murray would never have done such a thing. He ought to be whipped! Father wasn't a failure, Cried Emily, Choking with anger. You had no right to call him a failure. Nobody who was loved as much as he could be a failure. I don't believe anyone ever loved you. So it's you that's a failure and I'm not going to die of consumption. Do you realise what a shameful thing you've been guilty of? " demanded Aunt Ruth, Cold with anger. I wanted to hear what was to become of me. Quiet Elizabeth, I didn't know it was such a dreadful thing to do. I didn't know you were going to say such horrid things. Listeners never hear any good of themselves, Said Aunt Elizabeth impressively. Your mother would never have done that, Emily. Then all the bravado went out of poor Emily. She felt guilty and miserable. As though she had committed a terrible sin. Go upstairs. Sit down, Ruth. Emily went without a protest. But before going, She looked around the room. When I was under the table, She said defiantly. I made a face at Uncle Wallace and I stuck my tongue out at Aunt Eva. Then she went upstairs in a state of bitter humiliation. Emily felt she'd done something that gave the Murrays the right to despise her. And they thought it was the star coming out in her. And after all, She had not even found out what her fate was to be. She looked dismally at little Emily in the glass. I didn't know. She whispered. But I'll know after this, And I'll never do it again. Then her eyes fell on an old yellow account book on her little table. And a minute later she was curled up on her bed, Turk fashion, Writing eagerly in the old book with her stubby lead pencil. While she was writing. All her pain and humiliation passed away. She felt rather tired and happy. It had been fun finding words to fit Uncle Wallace. And what exquisite satisfaction it had been to describe Aunt Ruth as a dumpy little woman. I wonder what my uncles and aunts would say if they knew what I really think of them, " she murmured. As at last she got into bed.