Rosanna gave a little cry of sympathy and pain, but she did not speak
and Rosanna simply held her close and patted her back, whispering,
"There, there!" over and over until at last the cries subsided, and
Claire, spent and tired, lay quite still.
"Are they _sure_ they can't cure her?" Rosanna whispered finally.
"There is no hope," said Claire. "She seems to get worse all the time.
She scarcely knows daddy now, and doesn't seem to care whether he comes
to see her or not. For a long time she wanted to see him."
"Did she know what the matter was?" asked Rosanna.
"No, not that we know, only she is so sad, when she is herself, that
daddy thinks she knows."
"Oh, I do feel _sure_ that she will get well!" said Rosanna.
Claire sadly shook her head.
"There is no hope," she repeated. "We have had doctor after doctor, all
the big specialists, and they can't do a _thing_. And oh, Rosanna, she
was _so_ pretty and so bright! We were _so_ happy!"
"How did you find out about it?"
"She commenced to have headaches," said Claire, then added haltingly,
as though she could not bear to tell even Rosanna about it, "and she
grew so angry about everything: awfully angry, so daddy was afraid she
might hurt me. She did once or twice, but I never told. She just hit me
with things, you know. Then the doctors said she must go away, my
pretty, pretty, loving mother, who used to love me so! Why, she was
_never_ happy for a single minute unless daddy or I was with her. And
she used to be so full of fun and tricks, just like a little girl. And
oh, Rosanna, now I have to think of my mother in a sanitarium, with just
nurses to look after her. Daddy's heart has broken and so has mine. And,
Rosanna, that is not all. I am going insane, too."
After a stupefied pause, Rosanna bounced violently up on her knees and
shook Claire roughly.
"Claire, _what_ a thing to say!" she exclaimed. "How _can_ you say
anything like that? Never, NEVER say it again."
"It doesn't matter whether I say it or not," said Claire, "it is going
to happen, and it will kill daddy. Why, Rosanna, I have the most awful
tempers you ever dreamed of and when they come on I don't know or care
what I do or say. I feel too awfully afterwards, of course, but I go
into a sort of frenzy and can't control myself. I hate to tell you all
this, Rosanna; you will not understand it perhaps, but if I do not tell
someone, I shall die! I cannot bear it alone any longer. We have kept
it so quiet about mother. No one in the Army suspects. We always say she
has had a nervous breakdown."
"Well, I can never tell you, Claire, dear, how dreadfully I feel about
it all," said Rosanna, kissing her friend's wet cheek. "But I am glad
you have told me. We will bear it together, and I am sure that will make
it easier for you. And as far as you are concerned, I am perfectly sure
that is nothing at all but imagination." She slid down and once more
took Claire's head on her loving little arm. "You are so tired, dear,"
she said. "Let us rest awhile, and then when you feel better, I will
tell you about _my_ mother and father. Wouldn't you like to hear about
them?"
"I would love to," said Claire. "Oh, it _is_ easier to bear now that you
are sharing it with me," she murmured.
"Rest," said Rosanna softly, catching a sleepy note in the tired voice.
Then suddenly, "Where is your mother now?"
"At a place called Laurel Hill Home, just outside of Cincinnati," said
Claire, and in two minutes her regular heavy breathing told Rosanna that
she was sound asleep.
And in about two minutes more two girls, cuddled close, were dreamlessly
sleeping.
When they woke the following morning they found the blinds drawn so
there was a soft twilight in the room, but on the pavement outside they
could hear the shuffle and patter of many feet going to the Christian
Science temple near by.
Claire rubbed her sleepy eyes, then leaned over and patted Rosanna.
"Will you ever forgive me for keeping you awake all night?" she asked
wistfully. "What a _selfish_ girl I am!"
"Indeed, you are not!" declared Rosanna. "Goodness me, what time is it?
Do I hear people going past to church?"
"You do," laughed Claire.
"Well, I was sure we put up all the shades before we went to bed."
"We did, but daddy closed them before he went up to Camp. He always does
that if he thinks I had better sleep late, and leaves a letter for me.
He is _so_ good, Rosanna. I wish he had a nicer child."
"Well, I suppose one can be almost any way one _wants_ to me," replied
Rosanna. "I was so bad and ungrateful once that I'm sure anyone who
wants to try can change themselves. I am not so very good yet, but I
can't help knowing that I am much nicer than I was." Both girls laughed.
"Yes, I am sure you are very nice, indeed," said Claire. "I could never
be as nice as you are."
"Don't make fun of me," pouted Rosanna, her eyes twinkling. "Let's hurry
up and go to church. The Christian Science Church has service an hour
sooner than the others, so we will have time if we rush."
They _did_ rush, and a brisk walk brought them to the arched door of the
old ivy-covered church just as the long line of choir boys walked slowly
down the aisle.
Rosanna heard nothing of the very excellent sermon. It was the first
time she had had to think quietly of what Claire had told her in the
night. She went over it all carefully, her tender heart aching for the
poor girl beside her. If there was only _something_ she could do. She
wanted to help. But what could anyone do in a case like this? If all
those wise doctors said that there was no help for poor Mrs. Maslin,
surely there was nothing for a poor little Girl Scout to do.
Finally she closed her eyes tight, very tight, and a fervent little
prayer for guidance squeezed itself out of her heavy heart.
"Please, _please_ show me what to do!" she begged, and at once, right
then, the rector spoke loudly:
"What have _you_ done?" he demanded. "Have _you_ made an honest effort
to solve your problems, to unravel your tangles, or have you supinely
left it all with your Creator? Believe me, you must make an honest
effort yourself. Ask yourself if you are really trying to do what there
is for you to do."
Rosanna was so startled that she grew red and sat up very straight. Then
she reflected that it was a good thing that she had heard that much of
the sermon. She had prayed for help, and she must be awake and ready to
receive it when it came. Moreover, she herself must look for a way.
All the way back to Claire's she pondered, and was so silent during
dinner that the Colonel accused her of being sleepy. After dinner the
Colonel said he had some letters to write, but later he would take them
to the Country Club for supper. So the girls decided to write also, and
settled themselves on either side of the big library table.
Claire was soon busy writing to a schoolmate in Honolulu, but Rosanna
dawdled over her paper.
Then all at once it came to her. Bright as day, clear as a bell, she
knew what she wanted to do and how to do it. Her thoughts flew back to
the time when Doctor Branshaw, over there in Cincinnati, had operated on
poor little lame Gwenny and had made her well; actually well. She
wondered if people with hurt or lame brains could not be operated on.
And that was another thought. Had Mrs. Maslin ever been hurt, or had she
just--well, just gone so naturally?
"I have been thinking about your mother," she said suddenly,
interrupting Claire. "What do you suppose made her so--I mean the way
she is? Did she ever get hurt?"
"Not enough to harm her," said Claire, starting. "No, never! She had an
awful fall with her horse once, that stunned her for half an hour. I
was with her and I was frightened almost to death. But she was all
right again in no time, and it did not hurt her at all except where she
bumped her head. She would not let me tell daddy because he always
worried over things. Her hair was so thick that it didn't cut her, but
it was a hard blow and she had an awful headache for days, but that was
all. No, she was never hurt."
"I wondered," said Rosanna, and commenced to write. And this is what she
said:
"_Dear Doctor Branshaw_:
"You said to the Girl Scouts of our Troop once that we must be sure
to tell you if ever we found another Gwenny. Do you remember? And
we all promised that we would.
"Well, I have. But this girl is not a bit like Gwenny. She is
beautiful, and has loads and loads of money, and is perfectly well.
But oh, Doctor Branshaw, she is really sadder than Gwenny, because
she has no brothers and sisters, but a lovely father whose heart is
broken and her mother is insane. The doctors say she will never be
any better, but just go on getting worse and worse always. But I
prayed about it, and I know that you can cure her. You would be
glad to if you could see this girl. Her name is Claire Maslin, and
her father is a colonel in the Army and is stationed here. She is
not like a girl at all except once in awhile when she forgets, and
she thinks she is going to go insane too, when she gets older. She
feels it coming on, but I am sure she is mistaken. But every girl
needs her mother, don't you think so? And so please cure Mrs.
Maslin. She is at a place right there in Cincinnati, and the
address is on the slip of paper pinned to the top sheet.
"I know that you are very busy, but it will make you feel as good
as you did about Gwenny when you have cured Claire's mother,
because I feel as though she needs her very, very badly. Although
Colonel Maslin is truly lovely, of course he can't really be a
mother.
"So _please_ do this, Doctor, as soon as you can possibly get the
time.
"Your loving little friend,
"ROSANNA HORTON.
"P. S. Claire is a Girl Scout."
Rosanna sealed the letter and addressed it and leaned back with a sigh
of relief. Claire glanced up, and seeing that Rosanna was through her
writing said slowly:
"Rosanna, if you were with me, I don't believe I would ever have another
of those awful spells. I feel so different when I am with you. You make
me feel so brave and quiet. Dad says he wants me to go to the seashore
this summer and I want you to come with me."
It was on Rosanna's lips to say that she was going on a wonderful voyage
across the sea, but she remembered her promise to Uncle Bob and
stammered, "Oh, that would be lovely, Claire, but I would have to see
grandmother about it."
"Oh, _make_ them say yes!" begged Claire. "I _need_ you, Rosanna. I
truly do! Of course, if there is something else you want to do, it is
all right, but I do want you awfully, dear Rosanna, and I am sure we
will have a good time."
"I know it would be perfectly splendid," said Rosanna, wondering why
everything had to happen at the same time. "I will ask about it
tonight, and then I can tell you tomorrow."
"Good," said Claire. "And I will go to dad's study right now and tell
him that he must beg your family to let you come."
"All right," laughed Rosanna, "and while you are telling him, I will go
and change my dress."
She ran lightly upstairs and Claire, humming a little tune in her new
happiness, skipped to her father's private office and opened the door.
What she saw stopped her like a blow. Her father sat at his desk, his
head buried in his arms. His wife's picture was clasped in one hand. His
shoulders shook with sobs.
Rosanna looked up with a smile as Claire entered, but Claire did not
return it. She closed the door carefully, almost as though she thought
it might break, then leaning against it, stood looking into space.
"What did he say?" asked Rosanna.
"Nothing; that is, I didn't speak to him," said Claire. Then with a
rush, "Rosanna, I can't invite you to the seashore after all. I shall
not go. I shall stay with dad. He is down there with mother's picture in
his hand, _crying_. I never saw him cry, Rosanna. It's awful! He is
always so brave. I never saw him cry. I cry enough, but somehow it's
awful for _dad_ to cry. You see I can't leave him, can I, Rosanna?"
"No," said Rosanna, "you can't leave him."
"He is always so cheerful and bright that I never thought about his
feeling it like this. Oh, how selfish I have been! I do not deserve to
be a Girl Scout at all. I came to the place in the Manual the other day,
where it tells about loyalty to parents, and I wouldn't read it at all,
I was so sorry for myself. I just don't deserve my badge. I shall tell
the Captain to deprive me of it."
"Nothing of the sort!" said Rosanna firmly. "You will simply do
differently, that's all."
"Indeed I will! My darling daddy! I didn't know what to do, Rosanna, so
I just came out. I shall not let him know a thing, but I shall tell him
that I mean to stay here with him. And I can be near you, Rosanna, and
you will help me."
The two girls looked at each other. Claire's eyes were pleading and
wistful, her mouth trembled and she breathed as though she had been
running. Rosanna stared until Claire went out in a sort of a mist like
the fade-outs in the movies. And in her place Rosanna saw the tumbling
waters and the white sails of all the ports of the world! And her heart
went down, and down, and down! Then she saw Claire again, and she was
saying, "You _will_ help me, won't you, Rosanna?"
And Rosanna's heart came up, and up, and up. It was filled with splendid
sacrifice and high resolve, and loving kindness; but she only said,
"Yes, Claire, I will be here, and I will help you."
Rosanna had made her choice.