“Aunt Elizabeth, Lofty John isn’t going to cut down the bush—he told me he wouldn’t—but I have to go and see him sometimes—if you don’t object.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t make much difference to you if I did,” said Aunt Elizabeth. But her voice was not so sharp as usual. She would not confess how much Emily’s announcement relieved her; but it mellowed her attitude considerably. “There’s a letter here for you. I want to know what it means.”
Emily took the letter. It was the first time she had ever received a real letter through the mail and she tingled with the delight of it. It was addressed in a heavy black hand to “Miss Emily Starr, New Moon, Blair Water.” But—
“You opened it!” she cried indignantly.
“Of course I did. You are not going to receive letters I am not to see, Miss. What I want to know is—how comes Father Cassidy to be writing to you—and writing such nonsense?”
“I went to see him Saturday,” confessed Emily, realizing that the cat was out of the bag. “And I asked him if he couldn’t prevent Lofty John from cutting down the bush.”
“Emily—Byrd—Starr!”
“I told him I was a Protestant,” cried Emily. “He understands all about it. And he was just like anybody else. I like him better than Mr. Dare.”
Aunt Elizabeth did not say much more. There did not seem to be much she could say. Besides the bush wasn’t going to be cut down. The bringer of good news is forgiven much. She contented herself with glaring at Emily—who was too happy and excited to mind glares. She carried her letter off to the garret dormer and gloated over the stamp and the superscription a bit before she took out the enclosure.
“Dear Pearl of Emilys,” wrote Father Cassidy. “I’ve seen our lofty friend and I feel sure your green outpost of fairyland will be saved for your moonlit revels. I know you do dance there by light o’ moon when mortals are snoring. I think you’ll have to go through the form of asking Mr. Sullivan to spare those trees, but you’ll find him quite reasonable. It’s all in the knowing how and the time of the moon. How goes the epic and the language? I hope you’ll have no trouble in freeing the Child of The Sea from her vows. Continue to be the friend of all good elves, and of