SHOPPING WITH NINA
Shirley, half-awake and crying, came pattering out into the hall and
Winnie dashed from her room. On the second floor, Aunt Trudy
scuttled back and forth demanding where the fire was.
"Go to bed girls," ordered Doctor Hugh, who had just come in and was
fully dressed. "Go back to bed, and I'll tell you all about the fire
in the morning."
"Oh, Hugh, are you going? Wait for me, please?" cried Rosemary. "I
won't be a minute."
"Me, too," shouted Sarah. "Wait for me, Hugh."
He was already in the lower hall, struggling into his overcoat.
"Go back to bed, and don't be silly," was his parting injunction as
he opened the door. "You'll catch cold, running through the halls.
Send 'em to bed, Winnie."
The door banged behind him and they heard a familiar whistle.
"Hugh!" some one called. "Hugh, it's down Plummers Lane. Going to
get the car out? I'll help you."
"That's Jack," cried Rosemary, trying to see through the white
curtains without being seen. "Oh, dear, men have all the fun!"
In spite of Winnie's remonstrances and Aunt Trudy's worry that they
would have pneumonia, the three girls tried to stay up till their
brother came back. After half an hour they gave up and went sleepily
to bed. The next morning they heard that the fire had been in one of
the novelty factories and that several houses had also been
destroyed.
"If the hydrants hadn't been open and the street clear, they say the
whole block would have gone," the doctor reported. "In some way it's
got over town that Jack and his gang were the only high school boys
on the job yesterday and that they voluntarily cleaned the snow out
of Wycliffe street. The Common Council is talking of doing something
handsome to show their appreciation."
Rosemary beamed, but Sarah who never could keep still blurted out
the truth.
"Rosemary told Mr. Jordan last night," she said matter-of-factly.
When Doctor Hugh had heard the details, he declared that while Jack
might not approve at once, he was sure he would later be glad.
"You're a loyal friend, Rosemary," said the doctor patting the
gold-red hair now long enough to tie back in a thick bunch of curls
again, "and there are few finer qualities to possess than that."
The Common Council, through Mr. Jordan passed a resolution thanking
the boys, by name, for their faithful "and valuable" services, and
the resolution was printed in the Eastshore "Chronicle" much to the
confusion of the lads and the delight and pride of their admiring
families. The Council also voted each boy the sum of $25, not, Mr.
Jordan explained, as an attempt to pay them, but in recognition of
"the devotion to duty which is able to ignore personal pleasure and
the initiative which is directed by common sense."
"Incidentally," he added, "the property, saved because the street
was clear and the fire apparatus could get through, totals
considerable more than the sum we are voting you."
Jack learned, of course, of the part Rosemary had played in this
train of events and though he made several cutting remarks about the
inability of girls to hold their tongues, he gradually, if
grudgingly, admitted that "it might have been worse."
"Norman Cox and Eustice Gray and the others are tickled pink with
the $25," he confided. "They think you are great. And I suppose you
couldn't help spilling the beans to Mr. Jordan."
But Rosemary was content to do without pæans of praise.
The famous "January thaw" filled the streets with slush a few weeks
later and made indoors a pleasant place to stay. Fannie Mears caught
a heavy cold and was out of school a week and Nina Edmonds began to
seek the society of Rosemary, whom she had rather neglected.
"You never come to my house any more," said Nina, one noon period.
"Come home with me this afternoon, won't you, dear?"
Rosemary was acutely conscious of her brother's wishes concerning
Nina, and she knew that he preferred she did not go often to the
Edmonds' handsome home.
"Well at least come shopping with me," suggested Nina, noticing the
younger girl's hesitation. "Go uptown after school this afternoon,
please, Rosemary?"
"Aunt Trudy expects me home," said Rosemary doubtfully.
"For goodness sake, do you have to go straight home from school
every day?" demanded Nina fretfully. "Why any one would think you
were Shirley's age! Can't Sarah tell your aunt you won't be home?"
"I suppose she could," admitted Rosemary. "All right, Nina, I'll go
with you."
Sarah accepted the message reluctantly after school that afternoon
and she and Shirley went home while Nina and Rosemary hurried off up
town. Nina's shopping manners were remarkably like her mother's and
she was respectfully treated in all the shops. Eastshore had no very
large stores, but the merchandise was of the better grade in even
the tiny places, the lack of variety, as in many small towns, being
balanced by uniform quality.
"Charge it," said Nina airily, flitting from shop to shop and
counter to counter.
It was dark, almost before they knew it and though Nina was
insistent that Rosemary come home to dinner with her, Rosemary
refused. No, she must go home.
"Well, here's your parcel," said Nina good-naturedly. "You'll love
'em when you get used to them and you look perfectly stunning in
them, you know you do."
Rosemary tucked the brown paper package under her arm and fled up
the street, dashing up the front steps behind a tall figure just
putting a key in the Willis front door.
"Well, honey, why this haste?" demanded the doctor, stepping back to
let her go in first. "You didn't smell Winnie's apple pudding a
block away, did you?"
"Where have you been, Rosemary?" asked Aunt Trudy, coming into the
hall. "Sarah said you said you would be home by half-past four."
"What you got?" inquired Sarah, eyeing the parcel under Rosemary's
arm with frank curiosity.
"Let me open it, Rosemary?" begged Shirley, standing on tip-toe to
pinch the package, her usual method of guessing the contents.
"There isn't a speck of privacy in the house!" flared Rosemary. "I
think I might buy something once in a while that the whole family
didn't have to see. And no one has to come straight home from
school, except me. If I'm an hour late, Aunt Trudy always wants to
know where I've been."
"I told her you went shopping with Nina Edmonds," remarked Sarah
sweetly, "And you're always cross when you go anywhere with her."
"Sarah!" said Doctor Hugh, warningly, but Rosemary dashed past them
and up the stairs to her own room.
She thrust the package down deep in her cedar chest and there it
stayed till the next Saturday afternoon. Then Rosemary deliberately
locked her door and proceeded to array herself in gray silk
stockings and patent leather pumps with narrow, high heels, the
results of Nina Edmonds' persuasive arguments and Rosemary's deep
longing to possess these accessories.
Walking in the pumps proved to be unexpectedly difficult, but
Rosemary practised while she dressed and by the time she had put on
her best hat and coat and was ready to go down stairs she was able
to manage them better. Sarah and Shirley had gone to the library,
Winnie was busy in the kitchen and Aunt Trudy was sewing in her
room. Rosemary counted on leaving the house unobserved. She teetered
to the door of her aunt's room and carefully keeping out of her
range of vision announced that she was going up town for a little
walk.
"All right, dearie, have a nice time," answered Aunt Trudy, rocking
placidly. "Tell Winnie to answer the telephone if it rings, because
I don't want to have to go down stairs."
Rosemary experimented cautiously with the top step and then
discretion prompted her to abandon valor. In her best coat and hat
and gorgeously arrayed as to her pretty feet, she, who considered
herself quite grown up this afternoon, quietly slid down the
banister! Just as she reached the newel post the door opened. There
stood Doctor Hugh!
"Haven't forgotten how, have you?" he said, laughing. "That was
neatly done, dear. I saw you through the glass before I opened the
door."
Rosemary was painfully conscious of her shoes. Against her will, her
glance strayed down and the doctor's eyes followed hers.
"Why how fine we are!" he said.
Rosemary sat down on the last step and tried to pull her skirt down
over her feet.
"I know you don't like them, Hugh," she answered resentfully, "but I
don't see why I can't wear high heels when I'm dressed up. All the
girls do."
"They are very pretty shoes," said the doctor gravely. "And very
unsuitable for a walk on a cold, slushy winter day," he added.
Rosemary said nothing.
"I suppose you wheedled Aunt Trudy into letting you buy them,"
commented her brother presently. "Well, dear, there are some things
we won't learn except through experience. I'm disappointed that
Mother's wishes didn't have more weight with you."
Rosemary half expected him to forbid her to leave the house wearing
the new shoes, but he went on to his office without another word.
She opened the front door noiselessly and hastened uptown to meet
Nina Edmonds.
Walking was not the unconscious, easy swing that Rosemary was
accustomed to, in the patent leather footgear and it was simply
impossible for her to forget her feet for one instant. Nina was bent
on more shopping and Rosemary found it very tiresome to stand before
the counters and look at things she knew Nina did not mean to buy.
Finally the latter suggested that they go to the little tea room
recently opened and have tea. The prospect of being able to sit down
delighted poor Rosemary.
They had to cross the street and the tracks of the Interurban
trolley to reach the tea room and in crossing one of Rosemary's high
heels caught in the trolley rail.
"I can't get it out!" she cried, snatching off her glove and working
frantically at the shoe.
"Work your foot back and forth," advised Nina. "Oh, goodness, people
are stopping to look at you."
Sure enough, the Saturday afternoon shoppers, a larger crowd than
usual for many farmers drove in on the last day of the week to make
their purchases, were beginning to be attracted by the sight of the
two girls on the trolley tracks.
"How could you be so silly!" cried Nina in vexation. "Look at all
the rubes--if there is anything I detest, it is to be made
conspicuous."
Rosemary flushed angrily, but a sudden shout drowned her reply.
"Car coming!" cried a man on the curb. "Somebody flag the trolley!"
The Interurban cars operated at a high rate of speed, even through
the town, and as the wires started their humming, Rosemary and Nina
glanced up and saw a car bearing down on them.
"You'll be killed!" shrieked Nina, taking a flying leap that landed
her safely across the tracks.
A man shot out of the crowd toward Rosemary and another dashed up
the street in the direction of the trolley, waving his cap. The
motorman put on the brakes, there was an ear-splitting noise as the
wheels locked and slid and the car stopped a good ten feet from the
frightened girl. Meanwhile the man who had come to her rescue had
unbuttoned the straps of the pump and pulled Rosemary free from her
shoe.
"Fool heels!" he commented, while a crowd of the curious surged out
from the curb. "If I had my way no girl should ever own a pair.
Here, I'll get it out for you--"
He tugged at the obstinate pump, the heel gave way and the man fell
back, the shoe in his hand, the heel neatly ripped off.
"Oh, say, I'm sorry!" he stammered. "I didn't mean to tear it
off--here's the heel; I guess a shoemaker can put it on again for
you."
He handed her the pump and the heel and the motorman and conductor
went back to their trolley.
"Thank you very much--it doesn't matter about the heel, it really
doesn't matter at all," said Rosemary incoherently, her one wish
being to get away from this awful crowd.
"If you're looking for the girl who was with you, she's gone,"
volunteered a freckle faced boy. "I saw her streaking it up the
street as soon as the trolley stopped."
Getting home with one heel off and one heel on, was not an easy
matter, but Rosemary managed it. Half an hour later, Doctor Hugh
reading at his desk, was astonished to have two patent leather
pumps flung down on the book before him and to see Rosemary,
crimson-cheeked and stormy-eyed confronting him.