“That is not bad,” said Rosanna, “but would we make enough to count for much? Even if all the girls in our group should go to work and work every single night after school we would not be able to make enough fancy articles to make a whole sale.”
“I suppose not,” sighed Helen. “This is Thursday. If we can’t think of something between now and Saturday afternoon, let’s tell the girls about it at the meeting and see what they suggest, and ask if they would like to help Gwenny. But oh, I wish we could be the ones to think up something! You see Gwenny sort of belongs to us, and I feel as though we ought to do the most of the work.”
That night at dinner there was a guest at Rosanna’s house, young Doctor MacLaren, who had been in service with Uncle Robert. Rosanna quite lost her heart to him, he was so quiet and so gentle and smiled so sweetly at her grandmother. She sat still as a mouse all through the meal, listening and thinking.
After dinner when they had all wandered into the lovely old library that smelled of books, she sat on the arm of her Uncle Robert’s chair, and while her grandmother was showing some pictures to the doctor, she whispered to her uncle, “Don’t you suppose the doctor could tell us how much it would cost to cure Gwenny?”
“You tickle my ear!” he said, and bit Rosanna’s.
“Behave!” said Rosanna sternly. “Don’t you suppose he could?”
“I am sure he could, sweetness, but I sort o’ think he would have to see Gwenny first. Shall we ask him about it?”
“Oh, please let’s!” begged Rosanna.
“Th’ deed is did!” said Uncle Robert, and as soon as he could break into the conversation, he said: “Rick, Rosanna and I want to consult you.”
Rosanna squeezed his hand for that; it was so much nicer than to put it all off on her.