It was on Rosanna's lips to say that she was going on a wonderful voyage across the sea, but she remembered her promise to Uncle Bob and stammered, "Oh, that would be lovely, Claire, but I would have to see grandmother about it."
"Oh, make them say yes!" begged Claire. "I need you, Rosanna. I truly do! Of course, if there is something else you want to do, it is all right, but I do want you awfully, dear Rosanna, and I am sure we will have a good time."
"I know it would be perfectly splendid," said Rosanna, wondering why everything had to happen at the same time. "I will ask about it tonight, and then I can tell you tomorrow."
"Good," said Claire. "And I will go to dad's study right now and tell him that he must beg your family to let you come."
"All right," laughed Rosanna, "and while you are telling him, I will go and change my dress."
She ran lightly upstairs and Claire, humming a little tune in her new happiness, skipped to her father's private office and opened the door. What she saw stopped her like a blow. Her father sat at his desk, his head buried in his arms. His wife's picture was clasped in one hand. His shoulders shook with sobs.
Rosanna looked up with a smile as Claire entered, but Claire did not return it. She closed the door carefully, almost as though she thought it might break, then leaning against it, stood looking into space.
"What did he say?" asked Rosanna.
"Nothing; that is, I didn't speak to him," said Claire. Then with a rush, "Rosanna, I can't invite you to the seashore after all. I shall not go. I shall stay with dad. He is down there with mother's picture in his hand, crying. I never saw him cry, Rosanna. It's awful! He is always so brave. I never saw him cry. I cry enough, but somehow it's awful for dad to cry. You see I can't leave him, can I, Rosanna?"
"No," said Rosanna, "you can't leave him."