birth is discovered through the dying confession av the old nurse and the birthmark on her arm.”
“How did you know?” gasped Emily in amazement.
“Oh, I guessed it—I’m a good guesser. But where’s your bother in all this?”
“I don’t know how to get her out of the convent,” confessed Emily. “I thought perhaps you would know how it could be done.”
Again Father Cassidy fitted his fingers.
“Let us see, now. It’s no light matter you’ve undertaken, young lady. How stands the case? Editha has taken the veil, not because she has a religious vocation but because she imagines her heart is broken. The Catholic Church does not release its nuns from their vows because they happen to think they’ve made a little mistake av that sort. No, no,—we must have a better reason. Is this Editha the sole child av her real parents?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, then the way is clear. If she had had any brothers or sisters you would have had to kill them off, which is a messy thing to do. Well, then, she is the sole daughter and heiress av a noble family who have for years been at deadly feud with another noble family—the family av the lover. Do you know what a feud is?”
“Of course,” said Emily disdainfully. “And I’ve got all that in the poem already.”
“So much the better. This feud has rent the kingdom in twain and can only be healed by an alliance between Capulet and Montague.”
“Those aren’t their names.”
“No matter. This, then, is a national affair, with far-reaching issues, therefore an appeal to the Supreme Pontiff is quite in order. What you want,” Father Cassidy nodded solemnly, “is a dispensation from Rome.”
“Dispensation is a hard word to work into a poem,” said Emily.
“Undoubtedly. But young ladies who will write epic
