She was early. The big, empty room echoed back her footsteps as she went to her desk to lay down book and slate before taking off her wraps. Nor did Emmy Lou dream the eye of the little boy peeped through the crack of the door from Miss Clara's dressing-room. Emmy Lou's hat and jacket were forgotten. On her desk lay something square and white. It was an envelope. It was a beautiful envelope, all over flowers and scrolls. Emmy Lou knew it. It was a valentine. Her cheeks grew pink. She took it out. It was blue. And it was gold. And it had reading on it. Emmy Lou's heart sank. She could not read the reading. The door opened. Some little girls came in. Emmy Lou hid her valentine in her book, for since you must not--she would never show her valentine--never. The little girls wanted to know if she had gotten a valentine, and Emmy Lou said, Yes, and her cheeks were pink with the joy of being able to say it. Through the day, she took peeps between the covers of her Primer, but no one else might see it. It rested heavy on Emmy Lou's heart, however, that there was reading on it. She studied it surreptitiously. The reading was made up of letters. It was the first time Emmy Lou had thought about that. She knew some of the letters. She would ask someone the letters she did not know by pointing them out on the chart at recess. Emmy Lou was learning. It was the first time since she came to school. But what did the letters make? She wondered, after recess, studying the valentine again. Then she went home. She followed Aunt Cordelia about. Aunt Cordelia was busy. [Illustration: "She sought the house-boy."] "What does it read?" asked Emmy Lou. Aunt Cordelia listened. "B," said Emmy Lou, "and e?" "Be," said Aunt Cordelia. If B was Be, it was strange that B and e were Be. But many things were strange. Emmy Lou accepted them all on faith. After dinner she approached Aunt Katie. "What does it read?" asked Emmy Lou, "m and y?" "My," said Aunt Katie. The rest was harder. She could not remember the letters, and had to copy them off on her slate. Then she sought Tom, the house-boy. Tom was out at the gate talking to another house-boy. She waited until the other boy was gone. "What does it read?" asked Emmy Lou, and she told the letters off the slate. It took Tom some time, but finally he told her. Just then a little girl came along. She was a first-section little girl, and at school she never noticed Emmy Lou. Now she was alone, so she stopped. "Get any valentines?" "Yes," said Emmy Lou. Then moved to confidence by the little girl's friendliness, she added, "It has reading on it." "Pooh," said the little girl, "they all have that. My mamma's been reading the long verses inside to me." "Can you show them--valentines?" asked Emmy Lou. "Of course, to grown-up people," said the little girl. The gas was lit when Emmy Lou came in. Uncle Charlie was there, and the aunties, sitting around, reading. "I got a valentine," said Emmy Lou.