Rachel (Kneeling by the little girl—a beautiful smile on her face) Dear little girl, won’t you let me kiss you good-bye? I love little girls. (The child hides behind her mother; continuing brokenly) Oh!—no child—ever did—that to me—before!
Mrs. Lane (In a gentler voice): Perhaps, when we move in here, the first of the month, things may be better. Thank you, again. Good-morning! You don’t belie your name. (All three go into the vestibule. The outside door opens and closes. Rachel as though dazed and stricken returns. She sits in a chair, leans forward, and clasping her hands loosely between her knees, stares at the chair with the apple on it where Ethel Lane has sat. She does not move for some time. Then she gets up and goes to the window in the rear center and sits there. She breathes in the air deeply and then goes to the sewing-machine and begins to sew on something she is making. Presently her feet slow down on the pedals; she stops; and begins brooding again. After a short pause, she gets up and begins to pace up and down slowly, mechanically, her head bent forward. The sharp ringing of the electric bell breaks in upon this. Rachel starts and goes slowly into the vestibule. She is heard speaking dully through the tube).
Rachel: Yes!—All right! Bring it up! (Presently she returns with a long flower box. She opens it listlessly at the table. Within are six, beautiful crimson rosebuds with long stems. Rachel looks at the name on the card. She sinks down slowly on her knee and leans her head against the table. She sighs wearily) Oh! John! John!—What are we to do?—I’m—I’m—afraid! Everywhere—it is the same thing. My mother! My little brother! Little, black, crushed Ethel! (In a whisper) Oh! God! You who I have been taught to believe are so good, so beautiful how could—You permit—these—things? (Pauses, raises her head and sees the rosebuds. Her face softens and grows beautiful, very sweetly). Dear little rosebuds—you—make me think—of sleeping, curled up, happy babies. Dear beautiful, little rosebuds! (Pauses; goes on thoughtfully to the rosebuds) When—I look—at you—I believe—God is beautiful. He who can make a little exquisite thing like this, and this can’t be cruel. Oh! He can’t mean me—to give up—love—and the hope of little children. (There is the sound of a small hand knocking at the outer door. Rachel smiles). My Jimmy! It must be twelve o’clock. (Rises). I didn’t dream it was so late. (Starts for the vestibule). Oh! the world can’t be so bad. I don’t believe it. I won’t. I must forget that little girl. My little Jimmy is happy—and today John—sent me beautiful rosebuds. Oh, there are lovely things, yet. (Goes into the vestibule. A child’s eager cry is heard; and Rachel carrying Jimmy in her arms comes in. He has both arms about her neck and is hugging her. With him in her arms, she sits down in the armchair at the right front).
Rachel: Well, honey, how was school today?
Jimmy (Sobering a trifle): All right, Ma Rachel. (Suddenly sees the roses) Oh! look at the pretty flowers. Why, Ma Rachel, you forgot to put them in water. They’ll die.
Rachel: Well, so they will. Hop down this minute, and I’ll put them in right away. (Gathers up box and flowers and goes into the kitchenette. Jimmy climbs back into the chair. He looks thoughtful and serious. Rachel comes back with the buds in a tall, glass vase. She puts the fern on top of the piano, and places the vase in the centre of the table). There, honey, that’s better, isn’t it? Aren’t they lovely?
Jimmy: Yes, that’s lots better. Now they won’t die, will they? Rosebuds are just like little “chilyun,” aren’t they, Ma Rachel? If you are good to them, they’ll grow up into lovely roses, won’t they? And if you hurt them, they’ll die. Ma Rachel do you think all peoples are kind to little rosebuds?
Rachel (Watching Jimmy shortly): Why, of course. Who could hurt little children? Who would have the heart to do such a thing?
Jimmy: If you hurt them, it would be lots kinder, wouldn’t it, to kill them all at once, and not a little bit and a little bit?
Rachel (Sharply): Why, honey boy, why are you talking like this?