“My digestion is all right so far,” said Rosanna. “I am glad to know that, though, because if your mother says so, it must be so.”
“Of course!” said Helen proudly. “When will you begin your play, Rosanna?”
“Right away after dinner,” said Rosanna. “That is, if Uncle Robert goes out. If he stays at home I will have to play cribbage with him. If I go off to my own room, he comes right up. He says he is afraid that I will get to nursing a secret sorrow.”
“What is a secret sorrow?” asked Helen.
“I don’t know exactly,” said Rosanna. “Uncle Robert looked sort of funny when I asked him, and perhaps he made it up because he just said, ‘Why—er, why—er, a secret sorrow is—don’t you know what it is, Rosanna?’”
“Sometimes I wonder if your Uncle Robert really means all he says,” said Helen suspiciously.
“I wonder too,” agreed Rosanna, nodding, “but he is a perfect dear, anyway, even if he is old. He is twenty-four, and grandmother is always saying that Robert is old enough to know better.”
“I know he will be all sorts of help about our play, anyway,” said Helen.
“I know he will too,” said Rosanna. “We will show him the play the minute I finish it.”
Rosanna went right to work on her play whenever she had any time to spare.