The Messenger's words

Where did that Corran go?
Pearl wandered down the hall, into the library, opened the door to his study, closed the door, turned out of the library, down the hall again... where in heaven's name did he go?
His bedroom door was wide open. The open doorway practically beckoned her in. But Corran wasn't there. In fact, his room was strangely vacant. Well, all of his things were there, in scattered disarray, but it was cold and uninhabited.
As Pearl turned to exit, the sound of something slipping to the floor caught her attention. She turned. The sound was of paper--a letter had floated to the floor, where it now lay beneath the window light of a melancholy gray morning.
You know that old adage? The one concerning a cat? Well, curiosity nipped at Pearl's fingertips, and she reached down to pick up the letter.
And then, interest moved her eyes slowly over Corran's handwriting.

It was a love letter.
Pearl gloried in the notion; she held in her hands an actual love letter.
Her heart leapt excitedly in her chest; a love letter to Sicily! Oh, it was just too fascinating. It was something straight out of the romance Mother had forbidden her to read.
Slowly, a certain realization came to Pearl. As she read the letter over again, her racing mind suddenly realized that she held in her hand the answer to all of her problems. Especially the ones concerning her lovesick elder brother.
Oh, it was just too good!

And that silly brother of hers would never send this letter. It was neglected. And as Pearl looked about the room, she notice about a half-dozen unfinished copies of it.

Thus, she deduced that the task was now hers. By chance she'd come across it, fate had chosen her to act where her heartsick brother would not. The happiness of her two favorite people in all the world (besides mother and father) depended on her.
So she folded the letter carefully, sealed it (rather messily, but no matter) and delicately addressed it to Miss Sicily-- no, not Sicily! she hurriedly crossed out Sicily-- Miss Cecilia Moore.
---

It only took Pearl half an hour to find Sicily's house. She'd never been this way before; mother and father always took her a different way to town. And they would never allow her outside the Estate ground without that goose of a governess.
But Pearl, clever as she believed herself to be, evaded them all easily.

And what a small house! When compared to Lennox Estate, it was a doll's house. A lovely little doll's house with a lovely little garden and roses all round it. Wouldn't she just love to live in such a house!
But the minute she lifted a fist to knock, the door swung open with a crash and somebody tumbled right into her. She rolled backwards, off the front stoop and into the roses.
"Toads! Who're you?" a scruffy, scrawny pale boy stood up and scowled down at her.
Glowering herself, she got up out of the roses and stood to face him. "What a rude little boy you are! Where's Sicily? I have something important to give her."
"Who's Sicily?" the rude boy said, hands on hips.
"Sicily! She lives here."
And thank goodness, for Sicily appeared right down the front walkway as Pearl spoke.
"Pearl?" Sicily said, surprised.
Pearl spun around. "There you are!" she said, looking relieved and exasperated at the same time.
"That's Ceci, not Sicily, you goose!" the boy shouted from behind.
"Quincy, don't be impolite," Ceci said. She looked tired and worn-out for the ages.
"Quincy? Is that your brother?" Pearl said.
Behind her, Quincy scowled again and crossed his arms in indignation.
Ignoring the question, Ceci said, "Would you like to come in, Pearl? I'll make us some tea. Heaven knows I'll be needing some."
Pearl followed Sicily into the little doll house. Quincy glowered at her as she flounced past.

The house smelled of lavender and cinnamon and old books. But it smelled warm, too. Not like Lennox Estate, which was always cold, no matter how many flower bouquets and fireplaces filled each room.
At the little worn table, Sicily and Pearl sat, a little porcelain tea pot between them. Pearl was having a tea party in a doll's house with Sicily. It was something out of her five-year-old pretends. And the love letter that now lay nestled in her pocket made the whole event that much more fantastical.
Sicily took a long drink of her tea. When she put the cup down, she looked curiously at Pearl. "Now that we have our tea, was there something important you came for? Is everything alright?" Ceci knew perfectly well the bounds of Pearl's allowances; it wasn't likely Pearl was here with her mother's permission. So she must have come under some significant pretense.
"Yes. But I have something to give to you," Pearl carefully pulled the paper thing out of her pocket. "It's very important. Only... you mustn't read it now. Wait till I've gone home, you'll want to read it in private, by yourself."
"Oh..." Sicily said, taking the letter and staring at it strangely.
"I'm only the messenger," Pearl said. "Though... the person who wrote that doesn't know I'm giving it to you." This last confession came before Pearl could think.
Sicily raised an eyebrow. She didn't look angry or disappointed, just amused.
"You're probably anxious to read it. I'll finish my tea and go home." Pearl swallowed the contents of her cup and stood up.
Sicily followed her to the door, and stood leaning against it as Pearl headed back down the walkway. "Thank you Pearl," she called.
Pearl turned and waved.
She smiled to herself.
Things were about to begin.