Rosanna did not answer. She was too low in her mind. She knew that Uncle Robert did not care for anyone, but what if someone should grab him anyhow? Rosanna felt that life was full of perils.
Two days later the little house was in perfect order, and Uncle Robert went again to Cincinnati after Gwenny. It was decided that no one should meet them on account of tiring Gwenny after her journey, so Uncle Robert carried Gwenny to the automobile and took her home to the little new house, her mother looking back with her sweet, anxious smile from the front seat of the automobile. When they reached the Preston Street house, and Mary and Myron and boisterous Tommy and little Luella all filed out quite quiet, but brimming with happiness, Mrs. Harter could only stare.
“This is Gwenny’s house, Mrs. Harter, deeded to her. Come in!” said Mr. Horton, as Minnie rushed out and led the dazed woman into all the glories of the new home.
Mr. Horton carried Gwenny straight to her own room, and laid her down on the sparkling, gleaming brass bed, where he left her listening to Mary’s rapid explanations. When he went downstairs he found Mrs. Harter in the kitchen, crying silently.
“Now, now, Mrs. Harter, you must not do that!” he said. “Brace up like a good woman! Gwenny will need a lot of care for a few days, and you will need all your strength.”
“Oh, but I am so thankful that my heart feels as though it would break!” said Mrs. Harter.
Mr. Horton laughed. “It won’t break,” he said. “Minnie, shall I take you home?”
“Thank you, sir, but my Tom is coming over a little later. I have supper all fixed, so we will have a small feast to celebrate, after Gwenny is attended to and safe in bed, so I will get home nicely, thank you.”
“Good night then,” said Mr. Horton. “Don’t let those Girl Scouts run over you, Mrs. Harter.” He raised his hat and ran down the steps whistling.
“There goes one good man,” said Minnie solemnly. “Come, dear, and take off your hat in your own house, and see the ducky closet under the stairs to keep it in.”