sewing in her own room. Then I went downstairs to watch for Father.

He came just on the dot, and I let him in and took him into the
library. Then I went upstairs and told Mother there was some one
downstairs who wanted to see her.

And she said, how funny, and wasn't there any name, and where was the
maid. But I didn't seem to hear. I had gone into my room in quite a
hurry, as if I had forgotten something I wanted to do there. But,
of course, I didn't do a thing--except to make sure that she went
downstairs to the library.

They're there now _together_. And he's been here a whole hour already.
Seems as if he ought to say _something_ in that length of time!

After I was sure Mother was down, I took out this, and began to write
in it. And I've been writing ever since. But, oh, I do so wonder
what's going on down there. I'm so excited over--

* * * * *

_One week later_.

At just that minute Mother came into the room. I wish you could have
seen her. My stars, but she looked pretty!--with her shining eyes and
the lovely pink in her cheeks. And _young_! Honestly, I believe she
looked younger than I did that minute.

She just came and put her arms around me and kissed me; and I saw
then that her eyes were all misty with tears. She didn't say a word,