in bothered Mary Rose and she
discussed it with everyone. It was not until they had all agreed with
her that people and places are what you think they are that she felt
comfortable again.

"I knew I was right all the time," she told Aunt Kate.

"If folks were really what she thinks they are, what a snap we'd have,"
Aunt Kate said to Uncle Larry, after Mary Rose had gone to bed. "To be
honest I'll have to admit that the atmosphere's a mite pleasanter here
but whether that's because of Mary Rose or because I haven't seen quite
so much of the tenants--I never do in summer--I can't say. Seems if
she does have the faculty of bringing out the kind side of folks. If I
hadn't seen it with my own eyes I never would have believed that Mrs.
Rawson would have loaned her machine to Mrs. Matchan or that Mrs.
Matchan would condescend to borrow it. Land, the rows they've had over
that machine and that piano! Perhaps there is somethin' in thinkin'
folks are friendly. What do you say, Larry?"

"What's thinkin' done for old Wells?" asked Uncle Larry. "He's worse'n
ever. Take my word for it, Kate, he'll make trouble for us. You might
as well begin to pack."

CHAPTER XV

Mrs. Donovan looked with admiration at the sheer linen blouse that Miss
Thorley handed her.

"Sure, I'll do it up for you the very best I know how an' seems if you
can't expect a body to do more than that. If all of us who are in the
world just did our best it would be a different place than it is, now
wouldn't it? What's ailin' you, Miss Thorley? Seems if you don't look
so hearty as you did. Don't you work too hard. It's what you have in
your heart more'n what you have in your pocketbook that makes
happiness. A pretty young thing like you hain't no business to be
thinkin' of jam all the time. I hear you're makin' oodles of money
drawin' pictures for Mr. Bingham Henderson but let me tell you, my
girl, you can't make good red blood no matter how much money you have.
There's only one can do that."

"Who's that, Aunt Kate?" Mary Rose hungered for the information, as
she leaned against the table. "Who can make good red blood?"

"God Almighty, honey, an' he's the only one. Land, I remember Jim
Peaslie took a dozen raw eggs a day, a quart of cream an' beefsteak so
raw it dripped blood but he couldn't make none of those red corpuskles
an' so there wasn't nothin' for him to do but die an' he died. A body
can't live without plenty of red corpuskl