NEXT day, shortly after noon, Humphrey Meadowcroft wheeled his chair
close to one of the front windows and began gazing down into the
street. He knew the habitudes of the village and realized that there
was little passing between twelve and quarter-before one. Practically
everyone in South Paulding had dinner at twelve o’clock with the
exception of the postmaster and George Pogany. The hardware merchant
sent his clerk home at quarter-before twelve and went himself an hour
later. It was Pogany for whom Meadowcroft was now watching. He didn’t
know exactly why he felt the desire to scrutinize his face sharply: but
as he had over half an hour before he would have the opportunity, he
had time to determine his own motive.
He was mildly surprised to see a young girl coming down the street
facing towards the post office. He was amazed when he recognized Rose
Harrow and saw that she was alone. It came to him suddenly that she had
regained her sight during his absence. But Tommy hadn’t mentioned it,
and he saw that the girl walked stiffly and in uncertain manner, her
feet so close to the wooden walk that she almost shuffled. His heart
beat quickly. Either Rose was out of her head or something critical had
happened. Seizing his crutches, he made after her as fast as he could.
He lost time by going down by the front stairway to which he was not
accustomed. But he overtook the girl easily. She was feeling her way
unsteadily.
“Rose!” he called when he was just behind, knocking with his crutches
to let her know who he was, though, as a matter of fact, his voice was
unmistakable. “Rose Harrow! Wait a bit!” And, joining her: “Is anything
wrong?”
Rose laughed as she stopped short, rather like an automaton.
“How do you do, Mr. Meadowcroft? I heard you were back,” she said as
he took her hand. “No, sir, nothing is wrong. Only I had--a plan in
mind and just sneaked off. Papa doesn’t come home to dinner and mama’s
making blackberry jam. Don’t ever tell, will you?”
“But, my child, you ought not to be in the street alone,” he
remonstrated. “Won’t you allow me to come along with you?”
“I’d love to have you, only--the game, you see, Mr. Meadowcroft, is
for me to go alone,” the girl explained, speaking very fast, her eyes
sparkling, a pretty daring in the piquant little face that was rounder
now and rosy. “I’m only going to walk straight ahead about as far as
the post office. What harm could there be?”
“None, I daresay. Still, Rose, I wish you would let me go with you,” he
urged.
Fancy refusing Mr. Meadowcroft anything! What would Betty say? But the
moments were flying and time was very precious.
“It would spoil everything if you did,” she declared plaintively.
“Please, Mr. Meadowcroft, am I facing right now? Stopping has sort of
mixed me up.”
She hadn’t moved, except to turn her head, and being reassured, said
a gay farewell and went on. Meadowcroft stood and watched her. As she
went on, she walked more rapidly and steadily. The square which the
post office faced was paved with concrete. He saw that she knew when
she stepped upon it and that she reached out her hand and felt the
side of the stone watering-trough. But his heart seemed to stop as she
turned boldly at a right angle and started across the street. Suppose a
stranger started to drive into the square at this moment!
But no one appeared, stranger or otherwise. Rose got safely across the
street and disappeared, apparently entering the apothecary shop. He
hoped she wasn’t going to get some dangerous drug to trifle with. But
they wouldn’t, of course, take any chances with a child of her age. And
with a sigh of relief Meadowcroft turned and retraced the way to his
window in the second story.
Rose Harrow did not, however, enter the apothecary’s but went into the
hardware shop next door. Here, she created a greater sensation. Trade
was not brisk at this hour--other merchants closed their shops from
twelve to one--and George Pogany had been standing by his screen door
gazing idly out into the square when he suddenly saw Rose Harrow in the
midst of it making straight for the point where he stood. His heart
leaped to his throat at the thought that the girl’s sight had been
restored. He and her father had been boys together and schoolmates, and
Betty and Rose had been intimate friends, and it did not seem strange
that she should run down to his shop to bear the glad news.
But she stumbled at the step and put out her hands to feel her way. He
rushed out and helped her in with great but very gentle concern.
“Rosy Harrow!” he exclaimed. “My stars! Whatever are you up to, child,
way down here and all alone?”
Rose laughed in gay triumph.
“O, I came alone on purpose to see you, Mr. Pogany!” she cried. “Don’t
ever tell. It’s a dead secret. Nobody knows it. I have never been one
step alone out of doors since last Christmas, and this is good half a
mile, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Rosy, good that, but----”
“It wasn’t bad; but my goodness! maybe it isn’t hard to keep straight.
If I hadn’t had sneakers on, and if it hadn’t been for the cracks
between the boards, I shouldn’t wonder if I’d been at the foundry now
or even out to Tamarack Hill.”
George Pogany stared at the girl. He felt weak and shaken.
“Sit down, Rosy--I’ll fetch you a chair,” he said, sighing deeply.
And he glanced anxiously out into the back shop wondering if he could
venture to leave her alone while he fetched it. But Rose was her
quick-witted self. She felt for the glass showcase, moved the length of
it until she reached the end, put her hand upon the flat counter, and
giving a little spring perched thereon, facing him jauntily.
“Now we must talk business quick, Mr. Pogany, before mama gets her jam
cooked and in the jars and begins looking around for me. But first I
don’t want you to think that I came at this time because of the streets
being empty. I came now because it was the first chance I had to slip
away. I felt a little bit queer--the least little mite afraid. But I
love to walk when Betty’s with me.”
“Betty would ’a come with you in a jiffy, if she’d ’a known.” Pogany
said reproachfully, “or I could have stopped at the house if you wanted
to see me. It ain’t safe, you know, at all, your coming off so.”
“But it was a secret and I had to see you alone,” she insisted
prettily. “Now listen. You know how I am going over to the high school
and be just like the others in my class except I can’t take algebra,
and I am simply wild to go? But I’ll tell you what I don’t like. I hate
like everything to go on the train every day. Mama will worry all the
time for fear I’ll be coming home at night with both legs chopped off,
and--well, you know I _am_ sort of reckless and ’twould be just like me
to be jumping off before the train stopped.”
“Rosy Harrow!” he cried in utter dismay.
“It’s true, but listen. I got papa off by himself last night and asked
him why I couldn’t walk over to Paulding and back just like he and
Aunt Maude used to do--Aunt Maude went to Mr. Appleton, too, the same
teacher we’re going to have. And papa said, yes, I could, if Betty
could go with me. And I hugged him and said he’d save the car-fare,
which is ninety cents, and he said I could have it just the same. And
so I never said a word to Betty but came right down here to tell you.
O, Mr. Pogany, can Betty walk with me?”
“Why, of course, Rosy, if you set such store by it, Betty can go
with you,” he assured her heartily, thrilled by the delight of doing
something for one so afflicted, and the daughter of his lifelong
friend.
“You are sure it won’t be too much for you, Rosy?” he asked anxiously.
“Sure,” she said. Her face sobered, and she added: “You know, Mr.
Pogany, you don’t move about so much when you can’t see, and--O, it
seems beautiful to walk. And with Betty--it’s so easy and natural I
forget--everything.”
“It’s all right then, so far as I’m concerned,” he said warmly.
Rose clapped her hands, slipped down, and catching hold of Mr. Pogany’s
shoulders, drew him down and kissed him warmly. He patted her shoulder.
“And I’ll give Betty the money her fares would amount to, so I
calculate you two girls will make yourself sick with lollypops,” he
declared.
* * * * *
Shortly afterwards, Meadowcroft saw Rose Harrow pass the house with
Pogany, her arm in his, chattering and smiling. The hardware man’s
tall form was bent awkwardly, and he minced along in a manner comical
to witness. But his rather grim face was beaming. And Meadowcroft
understood everything when that evening Tommy dropped in to tell him
that Betty’s father had given in.
“How did it happen, Tommy?” he asked.
“Nobody knows. That’s the queer part of it. Just as he was going back
to the shop after his dinner, he went out to the kitchen where Betty
was washing dishes and told her if she wanted to walk to school instead
of ride she could. And Betty almost fell over. And she doesn’t hardly
ever do much hugging of him, and her hands were in the water. But she
just dried ’em a little mite on her apron and run and put her arms
round his neck and kissed him. And she was glad she did it before he
told her the rest--which was that she could have her car-fares for
keeps--not bad, was it?”
“No, indeed. And she hasn’t any idea what changed him?”
“Nary bit. And then she runs right over to Rose’s and asks her if she
doesn’t want to walk part of the time anyhow. And Rose wants to walk
all the time, and her mother’s going to talk it over with her father
to-night. And her parents are easy marks, you know, compared with
Betty’s and mine.”