The Girls of Central High Aiding the Red Cross | Page 8

gasped Bobby suddenly. "Did you hear the latest about
Old Dimple?"

"Now, girls," said Laura, quite sternly, "I refuse to hear of Professor
Dimp being made a goose of."
"Gander, dear! Gander!" exclaimed Jess, sotto voce.
"He's an old dear," declared Laura, quite as earnestly. "We found that
out, I am sure, when we went camping on Acorn Island last summer."
"True! True!" admitted her chum.
"Oh, nobody wants to hurt the old fellow," chuckled Bobby. "But one
day this week there was a bunch of the boys down at the post-office,
and Professor Dimp came in to mail a letter. You know he is always
reading on the street when he walks; never sees anybody, and goes
stumbling about blindly with a book under his nose. He got into the
revolving door and Short and Long declares Old Dimple went around
ten times before he knew enough to come out--and then he was on the
street again and had failed to mail the letter."
"Oh, Bobby!" cried Jess, while Miss Steele was quite convulsed by the
statement.
"He's so absent-minded," said Laura sympathetically. "Why didn't
Short and Long tell him he was in the revolving door?"
"Humph!" chuckled Bobby, "I guess Short thought the old fellow
needed the exercise."
Just then the girls came to the corner of Whiffle Street The street was
narrow and crooked in an elbow here. The houses were mostly small,
and were out of repair. It was, indeed, the poor end of Whiffle Street.
On the hill end were some of the best residences in Centerport.
"There's the Eaton place across the street," said Jess briskly. "I see there
is a light, Miss Steele."
"That is mother's room on the first floor--right off the piazza. You
know, we could not begin to use all the house," the girl added frankly.

"There are only mother and I and Aunt Jinny."
"Oh! Your aunt?" asked Jess.
"She is mother's old nurse. She has come with us--to help do the
housework, you know," Miss Steele said frankly, yet again flushing a
little. "I--I guess I have never lived just as you girls do. We have moved
around a great deal. I have got such education as I have by fits and
starts, you see. I suppose you three girls have a perfectly delightful time
at your Central High?"
"Especially when Gee Gee gets after us with a sharp stick," grumbled
Bobby.
"Don't mind Bobby," said Laura, laughing. "She is dreadfully slangy,
and sometimes quite impossible. We do have fine times at Central High.
Especially in our games and athletic work."
"Miss Steele must be sure and come to our Ice Carnival next week,"
said Jess.
"'Ice Carnival'?" cried the Red Cross girl. "And I just love to skate!"
There came a sudden tapping on the window of the lighted room in the
old Eaton house. The girls had crossed the street and were standing at
the gate. Janet Steele wheeled quickly and waved her hand. A sitting
figure was dimly outlined at the long, French window.
"Oh!" Janet said. "Mother wants us to come in. She doesn't see many
people--and she enjoys young folk. Won't you come in? It will be a
pleasure for us both."
Jess and Bobby looked at Laura. They allowed Mother Wit to decide
the question, and she was but a few seconds in doing so.
"Why, of course! It's not late," she said. "We shall stay but a minute
this time, Miss Steele."
"Call me Janet," whispered the Red Cross girl, squeezing Laura's arm

as they went through the sagging gate.
The quartette climbed the steep steps to the piazza. That the Eaton
house was in bad repair was proved by the broken boards in steps and
piazza floor and the dilapidated condition of the railing. Even the lock
of the front door was broken. Janet turned the knob and ushered them
into the dimly-lit hall.
This was neatly if sparsely furnished. And everything seemed
scrupulously clean. Their young hostess opened the door into her
mother's room, which was that originally intended for the parlor.
The eager and curious girls of Central High saw first of all the figure of
the woman in the wheel chair by the window. She had pulled down the
shade now and dropped the curtains into place. The whole room was
warm and well lighted. There was a gas chandelier lighted to the full
and an open grate heaped with red coals. There was a good rug,
comfortable chairs, and a canopied bed set in a corner. A tea-table with
furnishings was drawn up near the fireplace. If one was obliged to
spend one's time in a single room, this apartment seemed amply
furnished for such a condition.
Mrs. Steele herself was no wan and hopeless-looking invalid. She was
as