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Page 67
"Here comes the father," she confided to the end of the ward. "Guess
the mother couldn't come."
It was not the father though. It was a young man who hesitated in
the doorway, hat in hand--a tall young man, with a strong and not
unhandsome face. The Probationer, rather twitchy from excitement and
anxiety, felt her heart stop and race on again. Jerry, without a
doubt!
The meeting was rather constrained. The girl went whiter than her
pillows and half closed her eyes; but Rose, who would have been
terrified at the sight of an elderly farmer, was buoyantly relieved
and at her ease.
"I'm sorry," said Jerry. "I--we didn't realise it had been so bad.
The folks are well; but--I thought I'd better come. They're
expecting you back home."
"It was nice of you to come," said the girl, avoiding his eyes.
"I--I'm getting along fine."
"I guess introductions ain't necessary," put in Rose briskly. "I'm
Mrs. Sweeney. She's been living with me--working for me, sewing.
She's sure a fine sewer! She made this suit I'm wearing."
Poor Rose, with "custom made" on every seam of the purple! But Jerry
was hardly listening. His eyes were on the girl among the pillows.
"I see," said Jerry slowly. "You haven't said yet, Elizabeth. Are
you going home?"
"If--they want me."
"Of course they want you!" Again Rose: "Why shouldn't they? You've
been a good girl and a credit to any family. If they say anything
mean to you you let me know."
"They'll not be mean to her. I'm sure they'll want to write and
thank you. If you'll just give me your address, Mrs. Sweeney----"
He had a pencil poised over a notebook. Rose hesitated. Then she
gave her address on the Avenue, with something of bravado in her
voice. After all, what could this country-store clerk know of the
Avenue? Jerry wrote it down carefully.
"Sweeney--with an e?" he asked politely.
"With three e's," corrected Rose, and got up with dignity.
"Well, good-bye, dearie," she said. "You've got your friends now and
you don't need me. I guess you've had your lesson about going to
sleep with a cig--about being careless with fire. Drop me a postal
when you get the time."
She shook hands with Jerry and rustled and jingled down the ward,
her chin well up. At the door she encountered Old Maggie, her arms
full of bandages.
"How's the Avenue?" asked Old Maggie.
Rose, however, like all good actresses, was still in the part
as she made her exit. She passed Old Maggie unheeding, severe
respectability in every line of her figure, every nod of her purple
plumes. She was still in the part when she encountered the
Probationer.
"It's going like a house afire!" she said. "He swallowed it
all--hook and bait! And--oh, yes, I've got something for you." She
went down into her silver bag and pulled out a roll of bills. "I've
felt meaner'n a dog every time I've thought of you buying that
parrot. I've got a different view of life--maybe--from yours; but
I'm not taking candy from a baby."
When the Probationer could speak Rose was taking herself and the
purple into the elevator and waving her a farewell.
"Good-bye!" she said. "If ever you get stuck again just call on me."
With Rose's departure silence fell behind the screen. The girl broke
it first.
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