Rosemary | Page 2

right out without seeing you."
But the famous specialist stopped squarely in the hall and the
pleasant-faced middle-aged nurse, standing respectfully on the lower
step, nodded reassuringly to Rosemary who was frantically mopping
her eyes.
"Well, Dr. Willis," said the great man heartily, "I am mighty glad to
have been of some little service. I'm sure you will find Pine Crest
sanatorium all that it is said 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