CHAPTER XIV.
For days Mary could think of little else, but as week followed week, her thoughts merged into memories--memories that were stored away and stirred in their hiding places less and less often.
"Dad knew best," she finally told herself.

"He bore it in silence all those years, so it wouldn't worry me, and I'm not going to start now.
Perhaps--he's dead, too.

Anyhow," she sternly repeated, "I'm not going to worry.

I've seen enough of worry to start doing that." Besides, she had too much else on her mind--"to start doing that." As the war in Europe had progressed--America drawing nearer the crimson whirlpool with every passing month--a Red Cross chapter was organized at New Bethel.

Mary took active part in the work, and whenever visitors came to speak at the meetings, they seldom went away without being entertained at the house on the hill.
"I love to think of it," she told Aunt Patty one day.