A day or so after this memorable meeting of the Girl Scouts things
commenced to happen so rapidly that Rosanna was fairly dizzy.
Uncle Bob's affairs straightened out and the family set off for New
York, where they were to take passage for France, their first stopping
place. Rosanna, with a heartache that she could not control, went over
with her modest little trunk to stay with Claire. It was a tremendous
sacrifice for the little girl to give up this marvelous journey, and all
her fine generosity and tenderheartedness failed to save her a few deep
pangs. But if ever a girl was repaid, it was enough to pay _anyone_ to
see the wordless gratitude of Claire.
When Claire found that the Hortons were going abroad and that Rosanna
intended to remain with the Maslins, it was necessary to tell her
something of the reason why, for of course she could not understand the
common sense of Rosanna remaining with her. So Colonel Maslin explained
that a new doctor was going to try the effect of an operation on her
mother. Doctor Branshaw did not want to operate until he was sure that
his patient was in good condition, so he insisted on waiting for awhile
and to Claire this waiting would be the greatest strain of all. So much
depended on the operation. Her mother, her beautiful, gay, young mother
restored almost from the dead, or else.... Claire stopped there. She did
not feel herself strong enough to think of anything but her mother
getting well.
The doctor and Colonel Maslin agreed that it would not do to worry
Claire, and so the wistful and frightened girl was thrown more and more
on the kindness of Rosanna. Claire was frightened. It dawned on her that
perhaps her mother might die in this terrible operation that was coming.
Rosanna did not fail her. She carried Claire out of her despairing moods
by her own cheerful, hopeful presence and, thanks to her, the time
passed quickly.
School ended and vacation commenced. The summer heat beat on Louisville,
and even the shady byways and lanes running through the beautiful parks
were breathless. Colonel Maslin begged the girls to go into the country
but Claire refused to leave him.
The Troop of Girl Scouts went off for a week's camping, but as Claire
would not leave her father, Rosanna decided not to go. The girls
returned, sunbrowned and bubbling with funny accounts of the trip. Every
evening a row of them came and sat on the Maslin porch, and told new
stories.
Claire and Rosanna almost felt as though they had been present. When
Jane and Estella and Elise and Helen came, all talking at once, it was
hard to figure out just what _had_ happened.
But the funniest one of all was Mabel Brewster. Whether it was her
experiences on the staff of the _Times-Leader_ or her evident happiness
in her return to her home, it was hard to say; but she had become a fine
story-teller and was the life of the party. She always saw the funny
side of things and could tell a joke on a girl without being bitter.
There came at last hot and stifling days when the thunderheads piled
high in the west and the leaves hung sagging on the branches. The girls
kept within doors in a desperate effort to keep out of the worst of the
heat. At noon Colonel Maslin came in, looking troubled and worn. He sat
down on a wicker chair near the girls, who were flat on the floor
propped on their elbows, trying to read.
"Claire, I have just had a telephone call from the doctor," he said. "He
wants to see me. Will you come? I think you had better."
"Of course, daddy!" said Claire at once. She got up. "At what time does
our train go?"
"I thought we might drive over," said the Colonel. "It would be so hot
on a train a day like this. Will you come too, Rosanna?"
"I would love to," answered Rosanna.
"Just tell Chang to get ready, will you, dear?" asked the Colonel of his
daughter. She left the room, and they heard her calling to Chang in the
distance.
"Rosanna, the time has come," said the Colonel in a voice which shook a
little. "We won't tell Claire until we reach Cincinnati, but this
weather is undoing all the weeks of preparation, and the doctor says the
operation must take place immediately. Mrs. Maslin has been feeling so
well that he is very anxious to try the experiment when she is at her
strongest and best. He promises nothing. It may result in her death, but
we must try it, Rosanna, if only for Claire's sake."
"Does she--Mrs. Maslin know about it?" asked Rosanna.
"She knows nothing, my dear," said the Colonel sadly. "Just sits and
looks into space all day long. And she was the gayest, brightest,
happiest creature. They called her the most popular woman in the Army. I
can't tell you what she was to us." He bent his fine head and a sigh
that was nearly a sob shook his shoulders. "We may lose her," he
whispered.
"No, indeed!" said Rosanna. "I know Dr. Branshaw is going to make her
perfectly well again. _I_ don't feel worried at all. I feel so happy I
don't know what to do. So _glad_! Oh, Colonel, just think! Claire will
have her mother again. You can't think how a person wants her mother. It
doesn't matter how many other people are good to you no one is like a
mother. I am sure this is so, because you know _my_ mother is dead, and
I feel so lonely and empty, even when I have my grandmother and Cita
and Uncle Bob. Somehow nobody's shoulder feels the same as a mother's.
My mother died when I was a baby, but I know it, just the same."
Tears started to Colonel Maslin's eyes as he listened to the brave,
uncomplaining little girl.
"You are quite right, my dear," he said. "And I pray that your doctor
will give Claire's mother back to her. If she is cured, it will be your
gift. Not one of the specialists we have had ever discovered the piece
of bone pressing on her brain."
"She will be well," declared Rosanna. "I wish the operation was all over
with."
She wished it more than ever the next day when they swallowed a heavy
apology for a breakfast and drove to the hospital where Mrs. Maslin had
been taken. Rosanna will never to the end of her days be able to look at
certain magazines without a shudder. The two girls sat or walked
restlessly around the bare waiting-room, turned over the pages of the
periodicals on the prim table, or gazed silently out of the window where
they could see the usually impassive and unmoved Chang pacing restlessly
up and down beside the limousine.
Occasionally Colonel Maslin came in, made a brief comment, and dashed
out again. Each time he left Claire whispered, "Poor father!" little
guessing that her father, rushing back to the operating-room, was
whispering to himself, "Poor Claire! My poor baby!"
Somehow or other time dragged on, the anxiety growing with every moment
until at last, looking more haggard than ever, Colonel Maslin entered
and took his daughter in his arms.
"It is over, darling," he said huskily. "It was very bad. She may not
live. You must be brave. She is coming out of the ether, and the doctor
wants us to be with her when she becomes conscious. Can you be _quite_
calm and natural?"
"You know that I can," said Claire quietly. "Come, dad!"
They left the room and Rosanna, forgotten, clasped her hands
passionately. "Oh, _please_ save her! _Please_ make her well! Claire
_needs_ her mother," she prayed over and over.
In the silent room upstairs Claire caught a blurred impression of
whiteness and watchfulness. Her mother's bloodless hand lay on the
counterpane and a doctor watched the fluttering pulse. Another doctor
stood ready to administer an injection in case the feeble heart should
fail. A couple of nurses moved swiftly but noiselessly here and there.
They made way for the man and girl and beckoned them close to the bed.
Colonel Maslin dropped on one knee and standing with her arm around his
neck, Claire looked at her mother whom she had not seen for so long.
Her head was closely bandaged, but oh, how beautiful and how dear she
was! After what seemed an endless time there was a flutter of the white
eye-lids, and they lifted slowly. For a moment the beautiful eyes
stared blankly. Hope died in Claire's heart. Then the weary eyes found
them, looked at the Colonel, studied Claire in a curious way, and then
seemed to embrace them both. A faint smile flickered across the face,
and a faint whisper trembled on the air.
"My two sweethearts!" Mrs. Maslin said, and as though even that was too
great a tax drifted off into unconsciousness again.
"She is all right," said Doctor Branshaw. "Better go now, Maslin. I will
see you downstairs."
Tears were pouring down the Colonel's face as he rose and with a long,
adoring look at his wife, left the room, Claire clinging to his hand.
But out in the long corridor, the door safely closed behind them, Claire
gave a deep sigh and quietly fainted.
The Colonel picked his daughter up, turned into the first unoccupied
room and laid her on the bed. Then he hurried after a nurse. When Claire
came to herself, Rosanna, rather pale, was holding her hand. She was
trying to swallow something bitter, and her father stood near her,
looking as though he was to blame.
"Oh, I am _so_ sorry, daddy!" she said as soon as she could speak. "I
feel all right. What a silly thing for me to do! How is mother?"
"If you are going to behave yourself now, dear, I will go and see," said
Colonel Maslin. He kissed her and hurried off. Claire, feeling
strangely weak but so happy, turned to Rosanna.
"She knew us!" she said. "She knew us both, and now, even if she dies, I
will always have that to remember."
"She will not die!" Rosanna declared for the hundredth time.
"There are worse cases than your mother's," said the nurse comfortingly.
"If she stands the shock, she will be all right, and I am sure she will.
Don't you worry or think she is not going to be well. You want to send
thoughts of courage and strength to her instead of thinking that she
must die."
"That sounds like some of the new religions," said Rosanna.
"It is not," said the nurse. "It is just plain common sense. Just you
try it!"
"I don't need to," said Rosanna. "I know Mrs. Maslin will get well, and
Claire will know so, too, when she gets over being frightened."
Claire did get over being frightened, although for many days her
mother's life hung by a thread. They stayed at the nearest hotel, and as
Colonel Maslin had been given leave of absence they had the comfort of
his presence.
As time went on and it became a certainty that Mrs. Maslin would live
and be her own self again, Claire was allowed to see her mother. At
first her visits were limited to a skimpy five minutes once a day,
spent under the eyes of a stern nurse who watched the time and put her
out without mercy. But as the days wore by and the invalid grew
stronger, Claire was allowed to spend many happy hours with her mother.
Came a day when the Colonel was obliged to return to duty. And after a
talk with her mother Claire went with him, Rosanna of course
accompanying them. Rosanna had had a good time after the first period of
worry, during which she never left Claire for a half hour. And Claire
was grateful. Rosanna did not guess how grateful. She did not guess how
often Claire talked to her mother and father about the Girl Scout's
loyalty and devotion. And Claire was naturally so quiet that it was hard
for her to tell Rosanna just what she thought about it all. But Rosanna
did not mind. She knew without words what her companionship had meant to
Claire during her time of trial.
Rosanna knew from that strange inner source that tells us so much and
leads us so unerringly that she had done right to give up the chance to
see the Ports of the World. And she was glad. Her sacrifice had proved
to her, at least, that being a Girl Scout meant more than the happy
companionship along the woodland ways in summer, or the friendly
striving for merits in winter.
One little thing worried her: her task was to be finished sooner than
she had thought. When Claire's mother came home, Rosanna did not want
to be there. For one thing, she wisely felt that Mrs. Maslin would want
Claire all to herself, and she knew that Claire would have no time or
thought to give anyone else, even a friend as well loved as Rosanna knew
herself to be.
Rosanna did not know where to go. The Hargraves had gone down to the old
home in Lexington; Mrs. Culver and Helen were visiting in Akron, Ohio.
Rosanna thought harder and harder as the days passed, and the bulletins
from the hospital grew better and more encouraging. At last the doctor
actually set a date. In three days Claire could have her mother. She was
to come home slowly and carefully in the limousine. And there must be
weeks and weeks of unbroken rest in her own home, with her devoted
husband and loving child and the adoring Chang to anticipate every wish.
Then Rosanna had an inspiration. Her old nurse and maid, Minnie, was
married and living with her nice, hard-working young husband in a
rose-covered cottage in the Highlands. Rosanna knew that they would both
be perfectly delighted to receive her.
She closed the book she was reading and went to the telephone. As she
reached it, the bell jingled.
"Hello!" she said listlessly.
A voice vaguely familiar answered, "Is Miss Rosanna Horton there?"
"This is Rosanna," said she.
There was a slight pause, then the voice said in a queer _mincy_ way,
"Oh, yes, Miss Rosanna Horton. Well, can you tell me, please, where Mr.
Robert Horton is?"
"He is in France," said Rosanna.
"Are you _sure_?" said the voice. "I heard that he had returned to this
country on business and was here in Louisville. I heard he had come to
see a niece of his."
Rosanna had heard enough. She commenced to jump up and down.
"Oh, Uncle Robert, Uncle Bobby, where are you? Oh, hurry, hurry!"
"All right, sweetness," said Uncle Bob in his own voice. "I am right
behind the house in the garage. I thought I would let you down easy."
Rosanna did not hear anything after "garage." She dropped the receiver,
went through the house like a whirlwind, and was clasped in Uncle
Robert's arms, where it must be confessed she shed some real and
comforting tears.
Rosanna's sacrifice had not been so very easy, you know.