“Glory be!” ejaculated Mrs. Raftery, pulling in her head and sinking into a chair. The news, swiftly imparted, raised considerably the standing of Mrs. Rogazrovitch in that neighborhood.
Presently Stephanie’s luck began to take another turn for the better; for as soon as she was well out of reach on the Island, Stephanie’s mother began to repent that she had let her go so easily. Others might covet the now precious possession. She began to suspect a conspiracy to keep Stephanie permanently exiled. There had been conditions set upon her return. For the first time Mrs. Rogazrovitch began to consider seriously the instructions she had received about hygiene and sanitation.
One morning the neighbors were surprised by an unwonted activity in the fourth floor back. Clouds of dust, followed by the smell of soap, issued from the long unopened windows. Dingy articles were banged viciously and hung out to imbibe the unaccustomed sun. That week was a perpetual wash-day. Mrs. Raftery had her theory. At last she could stand the suspense no longer, but put her theory squarely to the test, with a question.
“I’m making ready for Stephanie’s home-coming,” answered Mrs. Rogazrovitch tartly. “What do you suppose, anyhow?”
“Blessed Saints!” ejaculated Mrs. Raftery. “I thought you was goin’ to take one lodger at least, the way you’re makin’ everything so grand an’ tidy. La sakes! An’ it’s only for Stephanie!”
But it was her neighbor’s next remark that smote Mrs. Raftery nearly dumb. It was made with some hesitation. “Will you—tell me—about making—soup?—I want to learn to cook.”
When she could recover Mrs. Raftery gasped, “Cookin’, is it? Hivenly powers! Why, I’ll show ye meself. I’ve been a cook all my life, till this lameness took me. And sure, there’s a diet kitchen around the corner, I’m told, where they’ll give ye points.”
It was this repeated conversation that made the neighborhood hysterical. Mrs. Rogazrovitch cleaning house! Mrs. Rogazrovitch learning to cook!
“It’s a changed craytur she is entirely!” exclaimed Mrs. Raftery, to her gossip. “An’ it’s a changed home into which Stephanie will be comin’ from her vacation at the sea-shore. It’s small blame to her man that he ran away from that home two years ago, I’m thinkin’. But the woman will have no trouble at all gettin’ a lodger these days, the way her rooms be lookin’ so nice and dacint. Say, she’s been afther tellin’ me that my childher ought to have more fresh air o’ nights! And doughnuts, she says, is not healthy for infants. The knowingness of her! Sure, they’ll soon be afther makin’ Mrs. Rogazrovitch the Prisidint of the Improvemint Society, the way she’s gettin’ intelligint an’ forthcomin’. An’ she with a child visitin’ at the sea-shore!”
So when Corporal Rogazrovitch, newly discharged, returned to take a secret reconnaissance of the home which he had deserted for the sake of his Country,—and for his own peace of mind,—he heard and saw such changes as made him decide not to re-enlist. This was another bit of luck for Stephanie; if you look at it from the right angle.