Rosemary | Page 3

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 fresh linen and a simple and orderly

array of silver. But it was the three joyous faces turned expectantly
toward him that caught and held his attention. Rosemary, in white from
head to foot, stood behind her mother's chair and all the light in the
room seemed to center in her eyes and hair. Shirley, looking like a
particularly wholesome and adorable cherub from her sunny curls and
wide, gray eyes to her fat and dimpled knees scuffled in an impatient
circle around her own special seat and Sarah, a stout and stolid little
Indian in tan linen and scarlet tie, showed her one beauty--a set of
strong, even white teeth--in an engaging smile.
"Well how smart we are," smiled the doctor, surveying them
appreciatively. "Seems to me everyone is dressed up to-night."
"We wanted to have things nice--because Mother is going to get well,"
said Rosemary with simple directness.
For answer Dr. Hugh came forward and pulled out her chair for her,
"just as if I were a grown-up woman," she recounted with pride to her
mother later, and then lifted Shirley to her seat and tied on her bib
dexterously.
"We're going to have ice-cream," Sarah informed him.
"That's fine," he commented a trifle absently, beginning to carve. When
he had served them all, he spoke seriously.
"Girls," he said, "I'm going to send a telegram after dinner to-night to
Aunt Trudy Wright. Mother wants her to come and stay with you while
she is away; I don't think she can begin to mend until she knows that
she has provided for you."
"Oh, Hugh!" Rosemary mashing potato for Shirley's hungry
consumption, looked distressed. "I can keep house, I know I can. We
don't need Aunt Trudy."
"She won't let me keep any mice in my room," wailed Sarah. "I don't
like her, either."

"Let me eat it now," said Shirley, referring to her potato. "Let's tell
Aunt Trudy not to come. She says oatmeal is good for me and I don't
like oatmeal."
"Have you all finished?" asked the doctor calmly. "Well then, I have
something to say: Aunt Trudy is coming, just as soon as I can get her
here; if for no other reason than Mother wants her and will go away
happy in the belief that you will be well taken care of. There is to be no
argument and I absolutely forbid you to mention the subject to Mother;
if she says anything to you, try to act as though you were pleased at the
prospect. For my part, I should think you would be glad she could
come. An aunt is pretty nice to have when you are in trouble."
"You don't know Aunt Trudy," said Sarah pertly.
"Rosemary, will you go up and sit with Mother while Miss Graham has
her dinner, when we are through?" asked Dr. Hugh, ignoring Sarah's
remark. "I am going down to the drug-store for a few things and I'll be
back within half an hour."
The dessert of berries and ice-cream were eaten almost in silence.
Three of the people at the table were busy with conflicting thoughts.
Shirley alone was concentrating her attention on the delight of a larger
slice of cake than usual.
CHAPTER II
THE WILLIS WILL
"It's the first real warm night we've had isn't it?" said Mrs. Hollister
conversationally. "I got to thinking about you to-night, Winnie, and I
said to Mamie that I believed I'd come up and see you for a minute or
two; I thought you might be glad to have a little help with the dishes or
something."
Winnie, a tall gaunt woman, the gray hair on her temples hardly
perceptible because of the ash-blondness of her tightly pulled hair,
stood beside the kitchen table apparently figuring some problem on a

slip of paper.
"My dishes are done," she said capably, "but sit down, do Mrs.
Hollister; I'm not denying that I'm glad to see a friend after the day I've
had."
Mrs. Hollister sank heavily into the cushioned rocker drawn up near the
table and removed her cotton gloves.
"I said to Mamie I knew you'd be tuckered out," she observed. "Am I
keeping you, Winnie--is that important?" she indicated the slip