to be and the right place for your mother. She mustn't be allowed, of course, to worry about home affairs. There are younger children, I believe?"
"Three girls," said Hugh Willis. "Rosemary--" he summoned her with a glance,--"my sister, Dr. Hurlbut."
Dr. Hurlbut shook hands kindly letting his quizzical gray eyes rest a moment longer on the tear-stained face.
"Ah, we cry because of past sorrow," he said quietly, "and, a little, because of present joy; is it not so?"
Rosemary lifted her head in quick understanding, tossing back her magnificent mane and showing her violet blue eyes still wet with tears. She smiled radiantly and her face was vivid, glowing, almost startling in its beauty.
"I am so happy!" she said clearly, and her girl-voice held a note of pure joyousness. "So happy that I do not think I can ever be unhappy again!"
The two doctors smiled a little in sympathy.
"Ah, well," said the famous specialist, after a moment's silence, gently, "let us hope so."
He turned toward the door and the younger man went with him to the handsome car drawn up at the curb. Rosemary, with a swift hug for Miss Graham, dashed past her upstairs to her own room, always a haven in time of happiness or stress.
"Mother is going to get well!" whispered the girl, starry-eyed. "All she needs is rest, and then she will be quite well again. Cora Mason's mother died--" the expressive face sobered and, sitting on the edge of her pretty white bed, Rosemary's twelve-year old mind filled with somber thoughts. Presently she slipped noiselessly to her knees and buried her curly head in the comforting cool white pillow.
"Dear God--" she began, but the tide of joy and relief began to beat loudly again in her heart, sending rich waves of color into her hidden face.
"I am so happy," prayed Rosemary tumultuously. "I am so happy! I am so happy!"
Presently she rose and dragged her white shoes from the closet. Sitting in the middle of the floor, she started contentedly cleaning them.
"Rosemary?" sounded a little voice. "Rosemary, you in here?"
Rosemary straightened up so that she could see across the bed which stood between her and the doorway.
"Yes, Shirley darling," she answered. "Did you tell Winnie about mother?"
"Yes," said Shirley scrambling upon the bed. "We told her. What you doing, Sister?"
"Cleaning my white shoes," replied Rosemary, applying whitener vigorously. "I'm going to put them on and wear my white linen dress. Don't you want to dress up to-night, Shirley? Bring me your shoes, if they are dirty, and I'll do them for you."
"All right, I'll get them," decided Shirley, sliding off the bed backward. "Could I put on my blue sash, Rosemary?"
"Not with that dress," said Rosemary firmly. "I'll have to wash your face and hands and neck and then you can wear the cross-bar muslin with the lace yoke."
"Are you up here, Rosemary?" demanded another voice. "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning my shoes," said Rosemary patiently. "Say, Sarah, don't you think it would be nice if we dressed up a little for dinner to-night?"
"Why?" asked Sarah bluntly.
"Oh, because--because, well, we know Mother is going to get well," explained Rosemary. "And everything has been in such a mess this week, the table half set and nobody caring whether they ate or not. I'd like to show Hugh that we can have things done properly."
"What difference does it make?" drawled Sarah lazily. "I hate a lot of fuss, you know I do. Rosemary, do you suppose it hurts worms to use them for fishing bait? Will you ask Jack Welles?"
"I'll ask him the next time I see him, if you will put on your tan linen with the red tie," promised Rosemary. "And do brush your hair back the way Mother likes it, Sarah. She can't bear to see it stringing into your eyes."
"Oh--all right," agreed Sarah. "Don't forget to ask about the worms."
She departed and in her place came Shirley, carrying a pair of diminutive and soiled white shoes.
"I wish," she announced pleasantly, sitting down on the floor beside Rosemary to watch the cleaning process, "I wish we could have ice-cream."
"Well I'll ask Winnie," said Rosemary promptly. "What dessert do you suppose we are going to have to-night?"
"Berries," Shirley answered wisely. "I saw 'em. Couldn't Winnie make us chocolate ice-cream?"
"Oh, she wouldn't have time to make it," said Rosemary, "but I'll ask her if I can't telephone the drug-store and have them send us some. There your shoes are, honey. Now hurry and get dressed."
Dr. Hugh Willis, coming down from his mother's sick-room at the summons of the musical chime which announced the dinner hour, thought he had never seen a pleasanter sight than greeted his eyes in the dining-room. The room itself was pleasant and airy and the last rays of the sun struck the table set with
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