And so it's not surprising, perhaps, that Mary Marie's manuscript
still lay forgotten in the little old trunk after it was taken up to
the attic. Mary Marie was happy.

And it _was_ happy--that girlhood of mine, after we came back to
Andersonville. I can see now, as I look back at it, that Father and
Mother were doing everything in their power to blot out of my memory
those unhappy years of my childhood. For that matter, they were also
doing everything in their power to blot out of their _own_ memories
those same unhappy years. To me, as I look back at it, it seems
that they must have succeeded wonderfully. They were very happy, I
believe--Father and Mother.

Oh, it was not always easy--even I could see that. It took a lot of
adjusting--a lot of rubbing off of square corners to keep the daily
life running smoothly. But when two persons are determined that it
shall run smoothly--when each is steadfastly looking to the _other's_
happiness, not at his own--why, things just can't help smoothing out
then. But it takes them both. One can't do it alone. Now, if Jerry
would only--

But it isn't time to speak of Jerry yet.

I'll go back to my girlhood.

It was a trying period--it must have been--for Father and Mother, in
spite of their great love for me, and their efforts to create for me
a happiness that would erase the past from my mind. I realize it now.
For, after all, I was just a girl--a young girl, like other girls;