On Sundays he never went to church as mother and I did--I suppose now because he had some other religion of his own.

But if he had I never knew what it was--or anything else that was in his mind or heart.

It never occurred to me that I could.

He tried to love me--I remember so many times now--and _that_ makes me cry!--how he tried to love me! He was so glad to see me when I got home from Europe--but he never knew anything that happened to me.

I told you once before that when I had pneumonia and nearly died mother kept it from him because he was on a big case.