As soon as Maria had departed, my aunt repaired to the bedroom. I remained on the watch for some time in the hope of seeing her and Mr. Everard return to the boudoir, but, though I could hear them talking in the bedroom, they did not come back. As the bedroom had another door by which she might go out without my hearing her, I was obliged to make good my retreat for fear of being caught, but it was nearly an hour afterwards before my aunt sent for me to go out with her. I managed to obtain a sight of two or three scenes of a similar kind, which generally terminated pretty much in the same manner, so it is needless to describe them. But I must give you the particulars of the last one, in which my dear Harry was the victim. This, however, must be reserved for another opportunity.
Ever yours, Emily
Letter III. Emily to Lucy
Still the same state of dullness and inactivity. My aunt is very kind to me but evidently watches me closely, and, I fancy, seems to distrust me. So, as I have nothing better to tell you, I shall go on with the narrative of my youthful adventures.
You have often heard me talk of Harry. He is a near relation of my aunt's late husband. Having lost both his parents when he was a mere child, and having no near relatives alive, he was taken charge of by my aunt and brought up by her along with me. As we had no other companions of our own age we were, of course, thrown very much together and were upon the most familiar footing.
Although latterly he was sent to school, he used always to spend his holidays with us, so that our intimacy was kept up. At first, while we were children, there was no sort of restriction upon our intercourse with one another. We used to be taken out to walk, and even to bathe together, and in our sports and play our clothes were frequently tumbled and tossed about so as to expose our naked persons to each other.