“During all this time there were other little children growing up—and now there are some more. And I always saw my little girl—for I thought of her as that even when she was quite, quite old—smiling at all the little faces, and the children would smile at her—never scowls—always smiles. Somehow no one could have scowled at Mary Alice, and I don’t believe she ever scowled at any one. For when her hair was white, her forehead had no wrinkles.