Marrying has helped Julius' looks more than anybody I ever saw. His cheeks have filled out until he's as handsome as a floor-walker. And they're so contented that Marcella says actually when she finds a pin pointing toward her she doesn't know what to wish for. You may have caught on to it before now, my diary, that the reason I'm telling you this very last news of all our friends is because I'm going to stop writing _sure enough_ to-night! I'm ashamed to keep breaking my promise to mother. The only ones I've left out, I believe, are Aunt Laura and Bertha. I wish I had forgotten them for I don't like to say anything hateful in my diary. Aunt Laura has joined some kind of New Thoughters and has grown quantities of new brown hair on the strength of it. And she dresses in champagne silk all the time. As for Bertha--she _lives_ to keep up with the "best people," meaning by this that she runs up to the hairdresser's every other day to see if she can learn how many "society men" have thrown their wives down the steps or poured boiling coffee over them since she last heard. I'm sorry I thought of Bertha so near the last, for I don't want to leave you with a bad taste in your mouth, my diary. So I'll branch off and mention something sweet right away. That blessed Waterloo! He's the sweetest thing I know anything about! Just about this time I reckon he's begging his "Daddy-boy" to sing Feep Alsie, Ben Bolt, for that's been his precious little sleepy song ever since he's been born. When I think of those three and how happy they are, and how satisfied they are just to be together, I know that Rufe told me the truth that day, a long, long time ago! There is only one subject worth writing about--or one object worth living for! May every one of you grandchildren find just such an object, and be as happy as they are while living for it! It does seem that I ought to be able to think of something beautiful to wind up my diary with! Everything about me is beautiful! The honeysuckle is smelling like the very soul of spring and love just outside my window--and there's a bust of Lord Byron on my mantelpiece close by. Such a tiny bust--the curly head just fits into the palm of my hand--when I get grown I'm going to have one big enough to burn candles before! Not that I shall burn candles before it--for, to tell the truth, I'd much rather be burning my fingers cooking oatmeal for some big, brown-eyed "Daddy-boy" and tiny, brown-eyed Waterloo! Mammy Lou came to my window just as I wrote this last and stuck her head in. "Name o' Deuteronomy!" she said in a loud whisper when she saw this book open before me. "What good'll your _gran'children_ do you, I'd like to know--if you set up all night and lose your looks so you'll nuvver fin' a husban'?" THE END Popular Copyright Books AT MODERATE PRICES Any of the following titles can be bought of your bookseller at 50 cents per volume.