Part 48 (1/2)

Ellen touched Rosie's cheek impulsively. ”If ever I get a home of my own in St. Louie, will you come and make me a visit?”

Rosie's thought was: ”If ever you get a home of your own, you'll never remember me.” Her spoken answer, though, was all that it should be: ”Ellen, I'd love to.”

Rosie, you see, knew Ellen's character pretty well. What she did not know and could not as yet know was this: that the Ellen of tomorrow might not be quite the Ellen of today; that life probably held experiences for Ellen that would at last make her look back on home and family with a new understanding and a feeling of genuine tenderness.

Ellen's train pulled out and Rosie watched it go with a sigh of relief.

The chapter of Family Chronicles ent.i.tled Ellen was finished. That is, it was finished so far as any new interest was concerned. Yet, like the hand of a dead man touching the living through the clauses of a last will, so Ellen, though gone, continued to touch Rosie on a spot already sensitive beyond endurance.

Rosie had not spoken of George Riley during Ellen's last week. She had tried to suppress even the thought of him. Now the time was come when she had again to think of him, and she was so tired and weary of the whole problem that she felt unequal to the task of working out its solution.

”Do you know, Danny,” she remarked that afternoon to her old friend, ”I'd give anything to go off somewheres where I don't know anybody and where n.o.body knows me. I'm just so tired of this old town that I don't know what to do.”

Danny nodded sympathetically. ”I'm thinking you're in need of a little change, Rosie. Maybe you could go out to the country for a day or two at Thanksgiving.”

Rosie knew perfectly well what Danny meant but, for conversational reasons, she asked: ”Where in the country, Danny?”

”Well, I was thinking of the Riley farm. I'm sure Mrs. Riley would be crazy to have you.”

Rosie shook her head. ”I can't go out there because Jarge is coming here.” She paused a moment. ”He's coming to see Ellen. You know, Danny, he thinks he's engaged to Ellen.”

”What!” Danny's little eyes blinked rapidly. ”Don't he know yet that she's married to the other fella?”

”How can he know when no one's told him? Ellen said she would, but of course she didn't.”

Danny's expression grew serious. ”Rosie dear, he ought to be told! He ought t' have been told at once! You don't mean to say, Rosie, you'll let him come down on Thanksgiving without a word of warning?”

Rosie shrugged her shoulders. ”I don't see that it's any of my business.”

Danny looked at her sharply. ”Why, Rosie dear, what's come over you?”

Rosie sighed. ”I don't know, Danny. I'm just kind o' tired of things.”

She made a sudden change of subject. ”Wisht I didn't have to go to school! I hate school this year. I don't see why I have to go, anyway.

I'm not going to be a teacher.”

There was no mistaking Rosie's dejection and Danny, instead of scoffing it away, accepted it quietly.

”I'm sorry to hear you say that about school, Rosie. I was thinkin'

you'd be in High School next year.”

”I would be, if I pa.s.sed. Ellen went through High School, and now Terry's in the first year, and of course dad wants me to go, too. But I don't see why I should. You know, Danny, I'm not very bright in school.

I'm not a bit like Janet. I've got to work awful hard just barely to pa.s.s. I don't think I'd have pa.s.sed last year if Janet hadn't helped me.

But I can cook and do a lot of things that Janet can't do. I know perfectly well I could never be a teacher, so I don't see the use of keeping on at school.”

”You surprise me, Rosie!” Danny peered at her earnestly. ”Do you think that's the only reason for going to school--so's to be a teacher?”

Rosie nodded. ”I don't see any other.”

”And what do you want to be, Rosie?”