er is going to let me go
back to school again this year ahead of his time, just as he did last
year.

So you see, really, I'm here only a little bit of a while, as it is
now, and it's no wonder I keep forgetting I am Mary.

I haven't got anything new for the love part of my story. I _am_ sorry
about that. But there just isn't anything, so I'm afraid the book
never will be a love story, anyway.

Of course, I'm not with Mother now, so I don't know whether there's
anything there, or not; but I don't think there will be. And as for
Father--I've pretty nearly given him up. Anyhow, there never used to
be any signs of hope for me there. As for myself--well, I've about
given that up, too. I don't believe they're going to give me any
chance to have anybody till I'm real old--probably not till I'm
twenty-one or two. And I can't wait all that time to finish this book.

* * * * *

_One week later_.

Things are awfully funny here this time. I wonder if it's all Cousin
Grace that makes it so. Anyhow, she's just as different as different
can be from Aunt Jane. And _things_ are different, everywhere.

Why, I forget half the time that I'm Mary. Honestly, I do. I try to be
Mary. I try to move quietly, speak gently, and laugh softly, just as
Mother told me to. But before I know it I'm acting natural again--just
like Marie, you know.

And I believe it _is_ Cousin Grace. She never looks at you in Aunt
Jane's I'm-amazed-at-you way. And she laughs herself a lot, and sings
and plays, too--real pretty lively things; not just hymn tunes. And
the house is different. There are four geraniums in the dining-room
window, and the parlor is open every day. The wax flowers are there,
but the hair wreath and the coffin plate are gone. Cousin Grace
doesn't dress like Aunt Jane, either. She wears pretty white and blue
dresses, and her hair is curly and fluffy.

And so I think all this is why I keep forgetting to be Mary. But, of
course, I understand that Father expects me to be Mary, and so I try
to remember--only I can't. Why, I couldn't even show him how much I
knew about the stars. I tried to the other night. I went out to the
observatory where he was, and asked him questions about the stars.
I tried to seem interested, and was going to tell him how I'd been
studying about them, but he just laughed kind of funny, and said not
to bother my pretty head about such things, but to come in and play to
him on the pian