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curses I might bring.
    Mamma found me crying when she returned later that morning. Understandably, she thought it was caused by my not being able to go to school. I didn't want to tell her about Emily's visit because it would get her angry and there would be more trouble, trouble for which Emily would blame me afterward. So instead I took my medicine and slept and waited for this illness to release its grip on me.
    When Emily returned from school that day, she stopped by and poked her head through the doorway.
    "How's the little princess?" she asked Mamma, who was sitting with me.
    "Much better," Mamma said. "Did you bring any schoolwork for her from your teacher?"
    "No. Miss Walker says she can't send anything, home. Everything has to be done in school," Emily claimed. "All the other new students learned a lot today," she added, and sauntered off.
    "Now don't you fret," Mamma said quickly. "You'll catch up quickly." Before I could protest, Mamma shifted to another topic. "Eugenia's very upset you're sick and sends her wishes for your speedy recovery."
    Instead of making me feel better, that made me feel worse. Eugenia, who was sick and in bed most of her days, was worrying about me. If I had anything to do with what had happened to my little sister, I hoped God would punish me, I thought. When Mamma left, I buried my face in my pillow and smothered my tears. For the first time, I wondered if Papa blamed me for Eugenia's illness, too. I was sure he was the one who had told Emily to read about Jonah in the Bible.
    Papa never stopped by to see me the whole time I was sick, but that was because taking care of sick children was something he considered to be solely women's work. Besides, I told myself hopefully, he was always so busy making sure the plantation was profitable. If he wasn't cloistered in his office poring over the books, he was out overseeing the farm work or visiting the markets for our tobacco. Mamma complained about his frequent trips to Lynchburg or Richmond because she said she knew he was making side trips to play cards with gamblers. On more than one occasion, I overheard them squabbling about it.
    Papa had a fiery temper and if there was an argument like that, it usually ended with something being thrown against a wall and smashed or doors slamming. Mamma usually emerged with her face streaked with tears. Fortunately, these arguments were infrequent. They came upon us like summer storms, fierce and hard for a short while and then swept away quickly, the calm air returning.
    Three days after I had first gotten sick, it was decided that I was just about fully recovered and could return to school. However, Mamma insisted that for this one time, at least, Henry should hitch up the wagon and drive us there. Emily was upset with the idea when Mamma announced it at dinner the night before.
    "When I was sick last year, I didn't get driven to school," she protested.
    "You recuperated longer," Mamma replied. "You didn't need a ride, Emily dear."
    "Yes, I did. I was dreadfully tired when I arrived, but I didn't complain. I didn't whine and cry like a baby," she insisted, glaring at me across the table. Papa snapped his newspaper. We were waiting for dessert and coffee. He peered over the top of the paper and gave Emily a reproachful glance, which was something else, she would blame on me, I thought.
    "I can walk, Mamma," I said.
    "Of course you can, honey, but there's no sense chancing a relapse just to spare the horses a few miles, now is there?"
    "Well, I'm not going on the wagon," Emily said defiantly. "I'm not a baby."
    "Let her walk," Papa declared. "If that's what she wants to do."
    "Oh, Emily dear, you can be so obstinate for no reason at all sometimes," Mamma cried. Emily didn't reply, and the next morning she was true to her word. She started out a little earlier and walked as quickly as she could. By the time Henry pulled up in front of the house with the horse and wagon, Emily was already long gone down the