Ethel Morton at Rose House | Page 6

the car had tooted to warn them back. To her delight she saw
that the driver was Grandfather Emerson. She waved her hand to stop
him.
"You're a great caretaker!" he cried. "Why do you leave Elisabeth to
look after herself in this fashion? And who's her friend?"
Ethel climbed into the machine beside him and told of the discovery
that the girls had just made. Mr. Emerson drew the car alongside the
curb and jumped out with anxiety written on his face. The hole in the
hedge was too small for him to push through so he ran around the end,
and approached the prostrate form of the woman.
Her eyes were closed and she lay so still that Ethel Blue, who was
rubbing her hands, shook her head as she glanced up gratefully at the
new arrival.
"What's this, what's this?" asked Mr. Emerson in his full, rich voice. Its
mere sound seemed to carry comfort to the poor creature lying at his
feet. He knelt beside her. "Hungry, eh?" he asked. "We'll see about that
right off. Can you eat these cookies?" He took a thin tin box out of his
pocket and opened it. "I have a little granddaughter named Ethel Brown
who insists on my keeping cookies in my pocket all the time so that I
can eat them when I'm driving. See if you can take a bite of this."
A fluttering hand took the cooky and put it between the pale lips.
Helped by the girls the woman struggled to her feet and stood wavering
before she tried to take a step. She was a young woman with very black
hair and gray-blue eyes and a face that was meant to be unlined and
pretty and not gaunt with hunger and furrowed by anxiety.

"You're very good," she whispered feebly.
Supported on each side she managed to reach the sidewalk, where she
looked about wildly for her baby. An expression that was sad but
infinitely relieved came over her features when she saw the two
children sitting in the gravel of the walk filling their tiny hands with
pebbles.
"A cooky won't hurt the baby either," decided Mr. Emerson, and he
gave one to each of the children.
The Ethels had no chance to ask him what he meant to do without their
discovery hearing them, so they helped the woman into the machine,
put in the two children and climbed in themselves. To their great
interest Mr. Emerson turned the car about and headed it for his own
home.
"I wonder what Grandmother will say," murmured Ethel Brown to
Ethel Blue, who was steadying the ill woman's head as it lay against the
back of the seat.
Ethel Blue lifted her eyebrows to indicate that she could not guess; but
both girls knew in their hearts that Mrs. Emerson would do what was
wisest and for the best good of the strays. She came to the door in
answer to the sound of the horn.
"How did you get back so soon?" she began to inquire of her husband
when her eyes fell on the passengers in the car.
"An accident?" she asked anxiously as she ran down the steps.
"The girls found this woman and her child part way over here and I
thought I'd better bring her on and get your opinion about her. I think
she'd like something to eat," and the kind old gentleman smiled in
friendly fashion as the woman opened frightened eyes at the sound of a
new voice.
Among them they succeeded in getting her into the house and into a

cool room, where she lay exhausted on the bed, her hand holding tight
to the little hand of her baby, lying wearily beside her.
"Sunstroke?" asked Grandmother.
"Hunger," replied Mr. Emerson, and he and Ethel Brown went down
stairs at once in search of food, while Mrs. Emerson and Ethel Blue
managed to undress their patient and put her into a fresh nightdress and
bathe her face and hands. By the time they had done this and were
undressing the baby, Ethel Brown and Mrs. Emerson's cook were at the
door with jellied broth, milk, gruel and a cooling drink.
Ethel Blue fed the woman, spoonful by spoonful, and Ethel Brown
gave the baby alternate spoonfuls of gruel and milk.
"Sleepy now?" asked Mrs. Emerson when the dark head sank back on
the pillow. "Take a nap, then. See, the baby is right here where you can
lay your hand on her. We'll look in now and then and just as soon as
you wake up you must take some more food."
"Must!" repeated the girl, for she was hardly older than Miss Merriam
they saw when her hair was pushed back from her face. "Must!