CHAPTER XIV
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.