"Yes," replied Culver.
"Any children?"
"One little girl," said Culver, glancing at Rosanna with a smile.
Mrs. Horton saw the look. She said nothing, but when Rosanna sat before her at the great round table, eating her luncheon, Mrs. Horton remarked, "Of course, Rosanna, you will make no effort whatever to meet the child living over the garage. Unless you make the opportunity, she will never see you, thanks to the arrangement of the windows. She is a child that it would be impossible for you to know."
Rosanna did not reply.
"Rosanna?" said her grandmother sharply.
"Yes, grandmother," sighed poor Rosanna.
After luncheon Mrs. Horton dressed and was driven away to a bridge party. Rosanna practiced scales for half an hour, talked French with her governess for another long half, and then wandered out into the garden and commenced to wonder about the child over the garage. How old was she? What was she like? Rosanna wished she could see her. There was a rustic seat near the garage and Rosanna went over and curled up on its rough lap. She stared and stared at the garage, but the blank brick walls with their curtains of vines gave her no hint.
It seemed as though she had been sitting there for hours when she fancied a small voice called, "Hello, Rosanna!"
Rosanna sat perfectly still, staring at the brick wall.