e girl's grave. She said it quite
calmly, but there was such a sad look in her eyes,
and I was horribly embarrassed, for I was afraid I
ought not to have suggested going with her. But
she assured me she would really like to have me,
if I didn't mind, so of course I went, and, oh,
Aunt Jessie, I am so glad I did. It was all
beautiful and sacred--almost too sacred to write
about, even to you and Mother. The cemetery was
such a lovely, peaceful place, and as it was quite
warm and pleasant, we sat down by Barbara
Randolph's grave, and her mother talked to me
about her. It was the first time she has ever told
me much about Barbara, and I was so interested in
all she said. I don't think I shall ever be afraid
of dying again; Mrs. Randolph spoke so beautifully
about it. She says she can never feel that her
little girl is far away, and she is quite sure
they will be together again some day. I think
Barbara must have been an awfully nice girl; every
one seems so fond of her. Grace Patterson was her
chum, and she can hardly speak of her without
crying. As for Beverly, he just can't bear to talk
about her at all, and I don't dare ask him a
single question. Grace says he was devoted to her,
and she adored him. I wish I could see a picture
of Barbara, but there are no photographs of her
about. Mrs. Randolph wears a little gold locket,
and I am sure there is a miniature of Barbara
inside, but I have never had the courage to ask
her to show it to me. I was just making up my mind
to do it yesterday, when we heard footsteps, and
there was Beverly himself, bringing more flowers.
He didn't know we were there, and looked horribly
embarrassed when he saw us. Boys always hate to
show their feelings, and I think he would have
gone away again without speaking to us, if his
mother hadn't called him. She was so pleased to
see him, and after the first minute I don't think
he really minded. I thought they might like to be
alone, so I slipped away as quietly as I could,
and on the way home I met the doctor, and he asked
me to go fo