JULY 17, 1941
BOSTON, Wednesday—Yesterday was one of the loveliest days I have spent in a long while, except for the fact that I was entirely stupid about following my route. On that score, I think I can give myself zero. In Bangor, Me., I turned in the wrong direction on route #2, and never realized it until I had driven a full hour!
I had planned to cover a good many miles, but I added 88 unnecessary ones. While it was a pretty road, I might have taken it some other time, without disturbing my plans quite so much. As it was, I could not dine with Mr. and Mrs. Henry Parish, but reached the Mountain View House in Whitefield, N. H., just as they finished dinner and spent a very happy hour with them.
I had a glimpse also of our rector and his wife, Dr. and Mrs. Wilkerson of Washington, D. C., who are spending their vacation at that hotel. The air around Whitefield must be invigorating, for everyone I saw looked very well. Charming young Mrs. Dodge came forward before I left to remind me of my former visit, when I had the pleasure of staying there.
This time there were three of us and I planned to start out very early this morning, so we decided to spend the night in a cottage attached to the Mary Elizabeth Inn near Lancaster, New Hampshire. Here we were very comfortable and carried out our plan of leaving just as the sun began to warm up the valley.
The view of the red sky back of the mountains last night, with one bright twinkling evening star, was unforgettably beautiful. A very friendly lady in the cottage next to ours came over to speak to me and to help me fasten down the top of my car before we settled down for the night. This morning we took the familiar road down to Boston, past the "Old Man of the Mountain." I would have liked to walk about here, but I had promised to be ready to greet some of my children at 4:00 p.m. in Boston, so I decided we had better not dally too long on the way.
We were all saddened on Monday to hear of the death of our young friend, Miss Margaret Durand, who was married just before her death to Mr. Aubrey Mills. She had been for many years secretary first, to Mr. Louis Howe, and then to our son, Jimmy. She was loyalty and devotion itself.
Margaret Durand had friends among the most important men of the day as well as among the simplest and least important people. All of them loved her because of her qualities of heart and mind. One wishes she could have been spared the suffering of the past three years, but perhaps some joy has been hers as well.