48
SILVER SHOAL LIGHT
When we were going out to the Rip, Garth called out to J. Kirkland: "That's Bird Rock, where I told you we almost saw the mermaid," and she peered out under the boom, and said: "Nonsense! There couldn't have been a mermaid." That's the sort of person she is. And yet I feel as though there were something in her that might wake up. I really believe that she'd rejoice in having an imagination, if she could. At any rate, if she sees very much of Garth, her imagination ought to grow nicely. That is, of course, if she doesn't nip the little sprouts of it before they get well started.
I must help Garth to bed now, and probably sha'n't have another chance to write more for the next mail, so I'll stop abruptly and write soon again.
With ever so much love, your old sister,
Elspeth.