“Yes,” in a soft, constrained tone. “I have always loved them. And last summer where I was staying there were hundreds of them.”
“Oh,” cried Dil eagerly, “that was jest what he said. It was clear away to las’ summer. Patsey was up to Grand Cent’l deepo’. He carried bags an’ such. An’ a beautiful young lady gev him a great bunch. Casey made a grab fer thim, but Patsey snatched, an’ he’s strongest, ’n’ he gev it to Casey good till a cop come, ’n’ then he run all the way to Barker’s Court an’ brought thim to Bess an’ me.”
“A great bunch of wild roses! Oh, then I know something about Patsey. It was one day in August. And—and I had the roses.”
Dil’s face was a rare study. Virginia Deering bent over and kissed it. Then the ice of strangeness was broken, and they were friends.
This was Patsey’s “stunner.” She was very sweet and lovely, with pink cheeks, and teeth like pearls. Dil looked into the large, serious eyes, and her heart warmed until she gave a soft, glad, trusting laugh.
“Patsey’ll be so glad to have me find you! They were the beautifullest things, withered up some, but so sweet. Me an’ Bess hadn’t never seen any; an’ I put them in a bowl of water, an’ all the baby buds come out, an’ they made Bess so glad she could a-danced if she’d been well, ’cause she used to ’fore she was hurted, when the hand-organs come. They was on the winder-sill by where she slept, an’ every day we’d take out the poor dead ones. ’N’ there was jes’ a few Sat’day when we went up to the Square an’ met the man. ’N’ I allers had to wheel Bess, ’cause she couldn’t walk.”
“What hurt her?”
“Well—pappy did. He was dreadful that night along a-drinkin’, an’ he slammed her against the wall, an’ her poor little hurted legs never grew any more. An’ the man said jes’ the same as you,—that he’d been stayin’ where there was hundreds of thim, an’ he made the beautifullest picture of Bess—she was pritty as an angel.”
Miss Deering’s eyes fell on the little trail of freckles across Dil’s nose. They were very small, but quite distinct on the waxen, pale skin.
“And he painted a picture of you! He put you in that wild-rose dell. I know now. I thought I must have seen your face.”