Please review! I want to know whether I should continue...

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Teddy became Emily's escort to all the social events of the summer. Clam bakes and dances and jamborees were nightly occurrences for Emily and the other boarders became quite used to seeing the sleek car and the man who owned it jump out of the car.

"Do you remember the night of Mrs. Childlaw's dinner dance?" Teddy remarked sentimentally one night.

How could Emily have forgotten that horrid night!

"She was sending her car for you, and I had asked you to go with me. But a car wasn't comparable to the one-hoss buggy I didn't even buy but borrowed. I always felt bad over that,"

"Why Teddy? That's ridiculous,"

"I always thought to myself that one day, it wouldn't be like that, that I would take you in a real car..."

"As long as you were there," Emily tried to be light-hearted but the earnestness came forth. "It wouldn't have mattered."

Teddy turned so he could meet the brilliance of her eyes. They stared at each other for a moment until Emily turned away. He sighed. And came up with an idea of a portrait of a woman with eyes like Emily's.

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"So sorry that I couldn't help you out, Emily, lately, " Mrs. Oliver gushed as she poured the tea. "But I trust your shopping expeditions and parties have gone well, and these last few days, you'll be sure to enjoy. I've been sort of peaked in this kind of weather,"

Emily winced as Mrs. Oliver accidentally stepped on her foot. "Indeed," she said.

"Now Emily, Mrs. Thompson asked if you would like to attend the dance she's holding in honor of her son's engagement. She knows that you, my dear, are under my wing and she would be very pleased to have you there."

"Thank her for the offer," Emily took a sip of her tea. "But I'm not certain I should. After all, I only have a few days left."

"Mrs. Thompson is very particular that Mr. Kent come, Emily. It will be the coup on her list, " Mrs. Thompson threw a swift glance at Emily who colored.

"I'm not sure what that has to do with me," Emily replied stiffly.

"Come, my dear," Mrs. Oliver dragged the couch nearer to Emily and lowered her voice. "You cannot pretend that Mr. Kent hasn't been frankly 'dancing his attendance on you.' It's been a daily gossip item. I've been asked several times if you two are engaged. It's also been near impossible to find him these days. He frankly refuses to come unless you are there. I'm not sure what our Dean will think of this when he hears,"

Emily stood up, her teeth clenched. "Dean knows what Mr. Kent is to me, Mrs. Oliver: an old schoolmate. And perhaps, Mr. Kent only does that because he misses home, and I'm the closest to his childhood memories. He is free to do as he wishes. I cannot claim to control him," Emily's iciness penetrated the walls.

"I'm not suggesting impropriety from your side Miss Starr," Mrs. Oliver stood up as well. "I like you Emily. But I also like Mr. Kent. Whether you do or not willingly, you are going to break his heart. Haven't you noticed he turns pale whenever we're together and you mention your going? If we're at tea or dinner, the same thing happens and he won't eat anymore. He doesn't seem to understand that you're engaged,"

"Mrs. Oliver," Emily picked up her hat and walked near the door. "I think perhaps you're over-fancying certain things. I bid you good day ma'am. I have a lot to do,"

Mrs. Oliver gaped as Emily slammed the door. Mrs. Oliver was a good-hearted woman, despite her frankness and propensity to gossip. The woman only did not possess the wisdom that comes to women at a particular time.

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Emily rang up Teddy to tell him she could not come to the restaurant he had suggested they go with premier French food. Teddy had been regaling her with tales of France and his cuisine, as well as the time he painted the Eiffel Tower.

"Emily, you should have seen it! It was statuesque, over 40 feet tall. You had to crane your neck just to see it. This gentleman saw my paints and brush in hand and offered me a seat with the greatest view. I spent hours and hours in front of it. I was lucky enough to be there as the sun set. I'd like to go back there again, if I'm ever awarded an art scholarship."

She lay down on the bed, penning her daily letter to her aunts and Cousin Jimmy, as well as scribbling a short epistle to Ilse when she heard the door knock.

"Come in," she called out, thinking it was little boy that often helped out his mother and father at the inn.

Teddy Kent strode through the door. She sat up, "Teddy!" she exclaimed.

"You weren't feeling well, so I thought I'd bring you a couple of things." Gingerly, he placed flowers (daisies with mums and pansies) on her desk and she noticed in his hand was a bottle of medicine.

"You didn't have to, " Emily scrambled onto her feet. She recalled Mrs. Oliver's words with a sense of dread. "Mr. Kent is dancing his attendance on you...you are going to break his heart. "

He stood there and surveyed the sheets of paper surrounded her. "Or it was a poor excuse of getting rid of me," he joked. "Are you writing again?"

"No, just letters," she said, knowing full well what he meant.

"You can do it again, Emily," Teddy said softly. "I know you can,"

She smiled tremulously up at him and he bid her farewell and closed the door.

Reaching for a piece of paper, she wrote "And there he was...."

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But Emily had thrown down the pen in frustration a few hours later. She wasn't pleased with her work. It lacked the soul, the spirit she once had in abundance. Would it have gone differently if she had decided to go with Miss Royal? Could she have been the author of over half-a-dozen books by now? Where was the ambition buried?

And what had Mr. Carpenter said to her before he died? "Promise me you will never write to please anybody but yourself,"

Perhaps there was the problem. She had stopped writing because Dean had said there was no hope. And now Teddy said there was.

But the yearnings were stirred to life. One day, she would be ready.

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