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 trunk of Fidelia's clothes and the many volumes of her diary.

"We'll burn these to-day," David decided about the books. "She never wanted any one to read them."

He had in his hand the first book which Fidelia had started, when she was ten, for the confiding of her thoughts.

"I'm glad I've seen them though," Alice said. "In a way, you see, she had to make them do for a mother. But she'll not have to, David!"