Part 19 (1/2)
”She'll have a boy next,” Rose suggested.
Norma glanced at her polished finger-tip, adjusted the woolly tan bag she carried.
”She says never again!” she remarked, airily. Rose's clear forehead clouded faintly, and Norma hastened to apologize. ”Well, my dear, that's what she _said_,” she remarked, laughingly, with quick fingers on Rose's hand.
”It's sad that Mrs. Chris Liggett didn't have just one, before her accident. It would make such a difference in her life,” Rose mused, with her eyes fixed thoughtfully on Norma's face. There was something about Norma to-day that she did not understand.
”Oh, it's frightfully sad,” Norma agreed, easily. And because she liked the mere sound of his name, she added: ”Chris is fond of children, too!”
Then, with a sudden change of manner that even unsuspicious Rose thought odd, she said, gaily: ”Isn't Aunt Kate perfectly delicious about the nurse? I knew she would be. Of course, she does everything, and Miss Miller simply looks on.”
”Well, almost,” Rose said, with an affectionate laugh. ”She didn't want a nurse at all, but Harry and Wolf insisted. And then--night before last--when I was so ill, it almost made me laugh in spite of feeling so badly, to hear Mother with Miss Miller. 'You'd better get out of here, my dear,' I heard her say, 'this is no place for a girl like you----'”
Norma's laugh rang out. But Rose noticed that her face sobered immediately almost into sadness, and that there was a bitter line about the lovely mouth, and a shadow of something like cynicism in her blue eyes.
”Norma,” she ventured, suddenly storming the fortress, ”what is it, darling? Something's worrying you, Nono. Can't you tell me?”
With the old nursery name Norma's gallant look of amus.e.m.e.nt and rea.s.surance faltered. She looked suddenly down at the hand Rose was holding, and Rose saw the muscles of her throat contract, and that she was pressing her lips together to keep them from trembling.
A tear fell on the locked hands. Norma kept her eyes averted, shook her head.
”Is it a man, Nono?”
Norma looked up, dashed away the tears, and managed a rueful smile.
”Isn't it always a man?” she asked, bravely.
Rose still looked at her anxiously, waiting for further light.
”But, dearest, surely he likes you?”
The other girl was silent, rubbing her thumb slowly to and fro across Rose's thin hand.
”I don't know,” she answered, after a pause.
”But of course he does!” Rose said, confidently. ”It'll all come right.
There's no reason why it shouldn't!” And with all the interest of their old days of intimacy she asked eagerly: ”Nono, is he handsome?”
”Oh, yes--tremendously.”
”And the right age?”
Norma laughed, half protestant.
”Rose, aren't you a little demon for the third degree!” But she liked it, in spite of the reluctance in her manner, and presently added: ”I don't think age matters, do you?”
”Not in the least,” Rose agreed. ”Norma, does Mrs. Melrose know?”
”Know what?” Norma parried.