They tiptoed in. The little girl was bandaged and pale and sleeping heavily; but oh, joy of joys, it was Rosanna!
CHAPTER XVIII
"And it was just like a fairy story," said Helen, telling her mother about it afterwards, "because even while the nurse was telling how the little girl had not spoken a word, or even looked at anybody, Rosanna just opened those big eyes of hers, and said, 'Hello, Helen!' And I simply didn't know what to say, so I just said 'Hello,' too."
It was indeed Rosanna, and Rosanna was herself again, aside from a very badly bumped head that had come near being a very seriously hurt head. She was too weak and ill to seem to wonder why she was in a hospital room with a couple of trained nurses feeling of her pulse, and dear Mrs. Hargrave with the tears rolling down her faintly pink old cheeks.
All Mrs. Hargrave said was, "We will be back in a minute, Rosanna," and shooed everybody out into the hall, even the stern superintendent.
"Now then," said Mrs. Hargrave with one peek back to see that the nurse that had stayed was doing her full duty, "now the thing is, how are we going to get her home?"
"Oh, she can't go home," said the superintendent in a shocked voice. "She ought to stay here for three or four days anyway."
"Fiddle-dee-dee!" said Mrs. Hargrave. "Home is the place for her, and besides I have reasons for wanting her to be under the care of her grandmother right away."