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Rh often so I decided to make over the room that no little child seemed to want to occupy, for my only sister. It really was easier to refer to the room as Ruth's. I was glad, after the first shock, that Will had made the change. The evident question and pity in people's eyes when we had called it by its old name had become unpleasant for both Will and me.

I grew very philosophical about my disappointment as time went on. I didn't mean to allow it to shadow my whole life. There was lots else to be thankful for. But that night after our little tea-party my philosophy seemed to leave me. It always does when I'm a little tired and need it most. I couldn't keep up any kind of conversation at dinner that night. I tried, but I couldn't. My thoughts got to travelling the wellworn path that they will stray away to every once in a while in spite of me, and it's always Will who comes to my rescue and pulls them back on to safe sure ground, before they lose themselves in utter dejection.

"Let's play some cribbage!" he suggested lightly after dinner.

I laid down my useless embroidery and listlessly drew up to the table. We played three games without an interruption. I won them all. Then just as Will was dealing for a fourth game I had to get out my handkerchief and wipe my eyes.

"Oh, my dear girl!" said Will accusingly.

"I know it, but I can't help it!" I replied. "It seems too cruel! I simply can't bear not to use the room we built the house around. I wish we could find a little child somewhere that we could—borrow. You see, Will, a woman, to be really happy, seems to