When supper-time came the older girls whose turn it was to prepare the meal, went about their task without any reminder from me. After setting the tables and drawing up the food from the kitchen on the dumb-waiter, they announced that supper was served. When the others came trooping in they seated the little ones and helped them put on their bibs.
Then, after whispering among themselves, one—perhaps the oldest—called my attention to a plate of cold food, and pointed out the little girl who had failed to eat it at lunch.
Without a word I took the plate and emptied it into the garbage-bucket. For a moment there was not a sound, not a movement. Then all eyes turned and stared at me. Then they stared at each other. A little girl chuckled and rapped softly on the table with her spoon. The next instant every little girl was chuckling and beating softly on the table with her spoon.
It was a subdued demonstration. Every one of these little people understood just what had happened. Also they realized that something unpleasant might happen if it were found out.
Late that afternoon I learned that my room was to be changed—from the cheerful surroundings of the building in which the matron lived to the dingy desolation of the cottage in which I had spent that afternoon. This information was not given me by either the matron or her assistant. I was told by the girl who was to change with me. She had come to St. Rose, so she explained, for the purpose of training for an institutional worker, and had been helping Mrs. Hoskins, for whom I had substituted that afternoon. She didn’t like it, and neither did I.
After supper Mrs. Bossman smilingly informed me that I had managed the children so charmingly that she had decided to change me to that cottage. She was sure I would be of great assistance to the mother, so much more useful to St. Rose. It really did seem a pity, she went on, to waste my genius for managing children—yes, it was nothing short of genius—on her small correspondence.
Glad to be thrown more closely with the children, and sincerely wishing to be of use to the institution, I agreed to the change. Though conscious that several of the workers had watched us closely during Mrs. Bossman’s explanation, I did not dream that any of them excepting, perhaps, the girl was interested.
On going to my room with the intention of packing and being ready to move to the cottage the first thing in the morning, I found Miss Jessup waiting for me. Her face was pale, and I noticed for the first time that her mouth had a very stern expression.
“Did you come here to take Mrs. Hoskins’ job?” she demanded as soon as the door closed behind me.
“Mrs. Hoskins!” I exclaimed, so surprised that for a moment my memory failed me. “Who on earth is Mrs. Hoskins?”