Of course, I’m glad, awful glad; but I’m so sorry the other children aren’t going, too.  For them it’s prunes and blue-and-white calico to look forward to until they’re eighteen.  Year in and year out, prunes and calico.

But maybe it isn’t.  If Mary Cary will do her part something nicer may happen.  She doesn’t know yet the way to make it happen, having nothing much to send back but love.  Somebody says love finds the way.  Oh, Mary Cary, you and Love must find a way!

THE END