cording to
what you hear!

Well, I was in the window-seat in the library reading when Mother and
Aunt Hattie came in; and Mother was saying:

"Of course I came out! Do you suppose I'd have had that child see that
play, after I realized what it was? As if she hasn't had enough of
such wretched stuff already in her short life! Oh, Hattie, Hattie, I
want that child to laugh, to sing, to fairly tingle with the joy of
living every minute that she is with me. I know so well what she _has_
had, and what she will have--in that--tomb. You know in six months she
goes back--"

Mother saw me then, I know; for she stopped right off short, and after
a moment began to talk of something else, very fast. And pretty quick
they went out into the hall again.

Dear little Mother! Bless her old heart! Isn't she the ducky dear to
want me to have all the good times possible now so as to make up for
the six months I've got to be with Father? You see, she knows what it
is to live with Father even better than I do.

Well, I guess she doesn't dread it for me any more than I do for
myself. Still, I'll have the girls there, and I'm dying to see them
again--and I won't have to stay home much, only nights and meals, of
course, and Father's always pretty busy with his stars and comets and
things. Besides, it's only for six months, then I can come back to
Boston. I can keep thinking of that.

But I know now why I've been having such a perfectly beautiful time
all this week, and why Mother has been filling every minute so full of
fun and good times. Why, even when we're at home here, she's always
hunting up little Lester and getting him to have a romp with us.

But of course next week I've got to go to school, and it can't be
quite so jolly then. Well, I guess that's all for this time.

* * * * *

_About a month later_.

I didn't make a chapter of that last. It wasn't long enough. And,
really, I don't know as I've got much to add to it now. There's
nothing much happened.

I go to school now, and don't have so much time for fun. School is
pretty good, and there are two or three girls 'most as nice as the
ones at Andersonville. But not quite. Out of school Mother keeps
things just as lively as ever, and we have beautiful times. Mother is
having a lovely time with her own friends, too. Seems as if there is
always some one here when I get home, and lots of times there are teas
and parties, and people to dinner.