“Fine,” said Father Cassidy. “I wish you good luck, and I wish it hard. Good-bye.”
“Farewell,” said Emily, thinking it a word more in keeping with dark secrets than good-bye. She tasted the flavour of that half-stolen interview all the way home, and felt quite as if she were living in an epic herself. She did not see Father Cassidy again for years—he was soon afterwards removed to another parish; but she always thought of him as a very agreeable and understanding person.
CHAPTER XX
By Aerial Post
“DEAREST FATHER: “My heart is very sore to night. Mike died this morning. Cousin Jimmy says he must have been poisoned. Oh, Father dear, I felt so bad. He was such a lovely cat. I cried and cried and cried. Aunt Elizabeth was disgusted. She said, “You did not make half so much fuss when your father died.” What a crewel speech. Aunt Laura was nicer but when she said, “Don’t cry dear. I will get you another kitten,” I saw she didn’t understand either. I don’t want another kitten. If I had millions of kittens they wouldn’t make up for Mike.
“Ilse and I buried him in Lofty John’s bush. I am so thankful the ground wasn’t frozen yet. Aunt Laura gave me a shoe box for a coffin, and some pink tissue paper to wrap his poor little body in. And we put a stone over the grave and I said “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.” When I told Aunt Laura about it she was horrified and said, “Oh, Emily, that was a dreadful thing. You should not have said that over a cat.” And Cousin Jimmy said, “Don’t you think, Laura, that an innocent little dum creature has a share in God? Emily loved him and all love is part of God.” And Aunt Laura said, “Maybe you are right, Jimmy. But I am thankful Elizabeth did not hear her.”
“Cousin Jimmy may not be all there, but what is there is very nice.
“But oh, Father, I am so lonesome for Mike tonight. Last night he was here playing with me, so cunning and pretty and smee, and now he is cold and dead in Lofty John’s bush.
“Dear Father: