“I’m telling you this because I think it’s high time you was told,” she said. “I’ve been at your pa for months to tell you, but he’s kept putting it off and off. I says to him, says I, ‘You know how hard she takes things, and if you drop off suddent some day it’ll most kill her if she hasn’t been prepared. It’s your duty to prepare her,’ and he says, says he, ‘There’s time enough yet, Ellen.’ But he’s never said a word, and when the doctor told me last night that the end might come any time now, I just made up my mind that _I_’d do what was right and drop a hint to prepare you. Laws-a-massy, child, don’t look like that! You’ll be looked after. Your ma’s people will see to that--on account of the Murray pride, if for no other reason. They won’t let one of their own blood starve or go to strangers--even if they have always hated your pa like p’isen. You’ll have a good home--better’n you’ve ever had here. You needn’t worry a mite. As for your pa, you ought to be thankful to see him at rest. He’s been dying by inches for the last five years. He’s kept it from you, but he’s been a great sufferer. Folks say his heart broke when your ma died--it came on him so suddent-like--she was only sick three days. That’s why I want you to know what’s coming, so’s you won’t be all upset when it happens. For mercy’s sake, Emily Byrd Starr, don’t stand there staring like that! You give me the creeps! You ain’t the first child that’s been left an orphan and you won’t be the last. Try and be sensible. And don’t go pestering your pa about what I’ve told you, mind that. Come you in now, out of the damp, and I’ll give you a cooky ’fore you go to bed.” Ellen stepped down as if to take the child’s hand. The power of motion returned to Emily--she must scream if Ellen even touched her _now_. With one sudden, sharp, bitter little cry she avoided Ellen’s hand, darted through the door and fled up the dark staircase. Ellen shook her head and waddled back to her kitchen. “Anyhow, I’ve done _my_ duty,” she reflected. “He’d have just kept saying ‘time enough’ and put it off till he was dead and then there’d have been no managing her. She’ll have time now to get used to it, and she’ll brace up in a day or two. I will say for her she’s got spunk--which is lucky, from all I’ve heard of the Murrays. They won’t find it easy to overcrow _her_. She’s got a streak of their pride, too, and that’ll help her through. I wish I dared send some of the Murrays word that he’s dying, but I don’t dast go that far. There’s no telling what _he_’d do. Well, I’ve stuck on here to the last and I ain’t sorry. Not many women would ’a’ done it, living as they do here. It’s a shame the way that child’s been brought up--never even sent to school. Well, I’ve told him often enough what I’ve thought of it--it ain’t on _my_ conscience, that’s one comfort. Here, you Sal-thing, you git out! Where’s Mike, too?”