They were years of great and serious changes for him.

An estrangement of long standing between him and his wife had ended in their separation early in 1910, to be followed later by their divorce.

In September of that year my mother died while on a visit to Crossroads.
After my father's death life to her became only a period of waiting until the moment came when she would rejoin him--because her faith was implicit and infinite.

She could not well set about preparing herself because all of her life she had done that and, so, smiling and with a splendid bravery and patience she lived on, finding her happiness in bringing cheer and hope and happiness to all who came into the presence of her wonderful personality.

The old home in Philadelphia was just the same as it had been through her long married life--that is with one great difference, but on account of this difference I knew that she was glad to spend her last days with Richard at Crossroads.