Rose looked full at Susan, and then knit her pretty brows.
"I am Rosy Latimer," she said. "And my great-aunt is Mrs. Peach; and Mrs. Peach is, or was nurse to Miss Christian."
"How is Christian, Rose? Is she really getting much better?" asked Star.
"Yes, miss; I think so. She takes her meals, and she sleeps regular; and my aunt says a sick person can't be expected to do more."
"You must have been very glad indeed when you were asked to come here in such a hurry—weren't you?" asked Maud Thompson. "We were surprised when we heard that Christian's old nurse and a little girl were coming to look after her. We thought Christian must be very ill indeed. You were glad, weren't you?"
"Well, miss," said Rose, who, notwithstanding her good manners, was by no means troubled with shyness, "my aunt and me, we were more frightened than glad. We didn't know whatever could be up. And aunt, she cried most of the way down. She cried very near as much as she did that time when me and Miss Christian ran away together."
"Oh, you ran away together!" said Angela.
Star suddenly laid her hand on Angela's knee as though to repress her. Susan's face turned crimson and then deadly white. Rose, however, did not notice the effect of her words.
"Ah, we had a time!" she said, and her eyes grew full of the recollection. Suddenly she burst into a laugh.