nd that he is so much happier now in the spirit
body, and with Ma Webb (he talked about her all yesterday, and I really
think that his soul was speaking with hers); but he was so dear to me
that I can hardly bear to think that he has gone away.

Wasn't he a splendid man, Don? I am sure that there could not have been
any better, nobler men, even in the city, and I know that you loved him,
too.

Before he died he told me all the wonderful things that he had done for
me, although I did not deserve it--how he had left me all that money and
made you my guardian. I am so glad for that.

He was in terrible pain toward the end, and I don't know what I should
have done without dear Miss Merriman who stayed on purpose to help me. I
think that God sent her here special. And she has helped me in so many
other ways too--especially with my studying. She is sure that I will be
able to pass that awful examination, although it frightens me. Oh, if I
_can_, I can take that hospital training and be a nurse at last, for I
am rich now. Just think, dear granddaddy left me _more than a thousand
dollars_--and I have my basket money, besides!

And so, dear Donald, the first part of my great dream is really coming
true. It isn't just the way I dreamed it, for I didn't mean for
granddaddy to be dead; but I guess things never happen just as we plan.
When we look forward to something pleasant, which we want very much to
happen, we never think that there may be unhappiness mixed with
it--perhaps it is better that way, for if we did we wouldn't work so
hard to make it come to pass.

I am afraid that I have not said that very well; but I feel that it is
so, now. I am going to Boston; I will be near you, and will learn to do
the work I love; but now I realize that I could never, never have done
it until granddaddy went away. So that is the shadow on my golden dream.

And last night there came the great sorrow that I have been dreading so
many months; and yet I know that he is happier, and I have you and Miss
Merriman, and the work I am going to do, to make me forget--not him, but
my sorrow--and take the pain from my heart.

Little Lou is almost well again, and both she and Judd are going to stay
with Mrs. Andrews the rest of the winter. And, oh, Doctor Mac, he has
promised me never to make white liquor again.

I have saved the best news for the last. _Miss Merriman is going to take
me to Boston with her._ She says that her family have taken an