"I've found out the story of Lost Charlotte," said Emily, and she sketched the details that Mrs. Murdock had told her to Aunt Laura and Aunt Elizabeth and Cousin Jimmy, who listened eagerly. At the end of it, Aunt Laura wiped away tears.

"How sad--how very sad," she said.

"Aunt Laura," said Emily. "I am going to write it all down--this story of Lost Charlotte. In my mind it is a beautiful story--about how love can outlast death. Sad, yes, but also a testament to human beings' power to love. I will find out everything I can from Mrs. Murdock, and write this story for you, to show you how beautiful it is."

Emily spent her days up in Shrewsbury with Mrs. Murdock and her nights writing furiously at her little desk at home. Teddy woke up sometimes at night and watched her lovingly and wondrously. She wrote as if she was possessed--as if the words were flowing from a divine power and she was simply the vessel by which they were made known.

It took her a month of furious writing, but at the end of it she had the complete story of Lost Charlotte--based somewhat on fact--but mostly how she imagined it must have happened. It was more than a story--it was a slim novel. On the night of the first snowstorm of the year, Teddy, Ilse, Perry and the New Moon folks came down to Evensong for the night and Emily read them a chapter or two from her book. It was a fanciful, magical, ghostly little book.

"I love it," Ilse sighed. "I like how Charlotte's ghost comes back and wanders around her old home in the spring. I hope that we can do that after we are dead--roam around all of the places we love." She shivered.

"Will you try to publish it?" Perry asked.

"I don't know," said Emily. "Little Elizabeth came down yesterday from Summerside to read it and she said I should."

"But won't everyone know you are writing about the Murrays?" Aunt Elizabeth blanched.

"I've changed the name, Aunt Elizabeth. There are no Olneys living in Shrewsbury. And no one remembers the story of Lost Charlotte, anyway. Likely it won't be taken--I can't decide if it is a novel for grownups or a fairy-story for children, so it ended up being a little of both. No publishing house would buy it."

However, she sent it off faithfully to Warehams, the house that had published her first book, The Moral of the Rose. And heard nothing back for weeks on end. No rejection--but no acceptance, either.

Emily stared out the window at the flakes that were coming down and carpeting the Evensong garden in white. It would be Christmas in another week.

* * *

One Christmas Eve, Emily and Teddy went down to the New Moon folks to open presents. Emily got a lovely velvet coat from Aunt Elizabeth that would be warm as well as stylish. Aunt Laura had crocheted them a lovely coverlet for their bed, and both Aunts had gone in together and saved to buy Emily a typewriter. It was so efficient--she would be able to spend twice as much time on her manuscripts, now. Emily thanked them for these things, a necklace of amethysts shining on her slender through. That was Teddy's present. The amethysts were the same color as her eyes.

Cousin Jimmy handed her a flat, solid package. A familiarly-shaped package. Emily tore the wrappings of and looked up--it was a fresh, new Jimmy-book. Cousin Jimmy only bought her a new Jimmy-book when she passed some milestone in her career--some new post on her way up the Alpine slope

"Open it up," Cousin Jimmy said.

Emily did just that, and on the first page, there was a folded piece of paper. Emily unfolded it and looked at the address in the upper corner.

"It's from Warehams!" she said.

"Read it," Cousin Jimmy grinned.

"Dear Mrs. Kent.we thank you for writingpleased to have another manuscript from youwe would like to accept your novel, Lost Charlotte, for publication. It will be the featured title in our Spring catalog! And we would like to sign you to a--three book contract? A three-book contract! Oh, Cousin Jimmy!"

Emily threw her arms around his neck.

"I knew you could do it, pussy," he said. "You're almost at the top of your Alpine Path now, aren't you?"

"Almost," Emily said, her eyes shining. "Before the way was hidden in clouds--and now the end is in sight."