The new year. I ran over to see Mrs. Goodrich this morning. She is terribly distressed because Mr. Goodrich's firm is sending him abroad, and he wants her to go with him. They will be travelling too much to take Peter and have decided against it. Of course I asked for him. And she will let me know. Father, when I told him, shook his head. He said nothing, but I knew what he was thinking. GREEN HILL January 2 Father asked me today if I liked Dr. Denton. He asked me so wistfully and so strangely that I couldn't tell him the truth. They are great friends, I know. So I lied. "Why, yes," I said, "I like him very much." I felt myself grow red. Father patted my hand. "He's a good man," he said. "I want you to trust him, Mavis. I have made John Denton your guardian--you know so little about money and the dull things of life," he added, half sighing, half smiling. "You are, after all, only a child." I tried to change the subject, as I always do, when directly or indirectly Father speaks of leaving me. He seemed happier, when I left him, than I have seen him in many days. I am glad, Diary, that I lied to him about the Enemy. GREEN HILL January 10 This morning Father was worse. I rushed to the 'phone and tried to get Dr. Mac, but he was out, making his calls. So Dr. Denton came. He sent me from the room, and was with Father a long, long time. When he came out, he called me. "Your father wishes to see you, Miss Carroll," he said. "Dr. Denton--" I couldn't say any more. Suddenly he took my two ice-cold hands in his firm, warm grasp. "Remember," he said, almost sternly, "that I am at your service, always, and at his." He dropped my hands and turned away. "I shall be back," he told me, "in the afternoon." Shaking all over, I laid my hand on the doorknob and prayed, over and over, just "Please, God, help him," and went in. Father, very white, held out his hands. "Come here," he said. And when I was beside him, "Mavis," he said, "the thought of leaving you alone--now that I feel certain that I must leave you, is unbearable. I have been talking today with Dr. Denton. He wants to marry you, my dear, and take care of you always, for me. He has been like my own son to me, that boy. He is straight and true and clean. And I think that I could go on my long journey with very few regrets, my Mavis, if I knew that you were in as safe hands as his." Cruel! Cruel! My heart almost stopped, and then raced on again. I couldn't speak. Father, his hand on mine, looked at me wistfully, entreatingly. I couldn't bear to have him look like that. Like a beggar. And yet, for a moment, I had absolutely no impulse of love toward him. He was a stranger to me, my own Father. It was impossible that it was his voice asking me to do this unthinkable thing. "Mavis?" "I can't," I said, in a whisper. His hand loosened from mine. Dropped wearily to the bed,