"That's the girl I wouldn't know if I had to live in the slums," thought Rose to herself.
She turned her right shoulder towards Susan, and spoke with her face direct towards Miss Peacock.
"It's a wonderful, wonderful story," she began; "and maybe there's a spice of naughtiness in it—I don't say there aint. But there's something else in it too, and that's a deal of courage. And when it come home to the heart of Miss Christian to know that it was wrong, no one repented more sincere than she did. And here's the tale; and she wishes me to tell it her own dear self."
So Rosy began, and not knowing all the events that had taken place in the school, nor the circumstances that made that story so great a tragedy, she told it with a certain directness that made it extremely effective. She told it very simply, too, so that the youngest and smallest girl present could understand every word. As for the story itself, it was very thrilling, beginning with Christian's experience and the old attic in the Russell Square house, going on to the confab that the two girls had when they lay side by side in Christian's snug bed, and proceeding right up to the time when the two terrified children pushed the old bedstead against the door that could not be locked. That crucial and awful moment when Mrs. Carter tried to get in at the window, and Christian boldly kept her back, was described with such vivid realism by Rosy that one or two of the young listeners screamed. Rosy also gave with much effect a description of the scene when the children found themselves in the carpenter's yard. Their terror, their despair when Christian discovered that her little bag of money was gone, brought down the house, so to speak. Rosy herself did ample justice to the theme. She was quite dramatic in her actions. At times she could not keep still, but jumped to her feet and pointed out imaginary people with her fingers. Sometimes tears rolled down her own cheeks, and sighs and almost sobs broke the narrative. But when she spoke of the carpenter and his mother, the tea the old woman gave the tired and sad young girls, and the kindness of the carpenter when he walked with them all the way to Russell Square, Miss Peacock and her pupils were so much affected that they longed to start a subscription on the spot for the worthy pair.
At last the whole story was told, even to that part when Miss Thompson and nurse rejoiced and Christian was safe back again in the old home.
As Miss Peacock listened, she wondered much why she had never before thought of bringing Rose on the scene and making her tell the story.
"Thank you, Rose Latimer," she said when a dead silence followed all the excitement. "You have told your tale beautifully; and although it is a tale of wrong-doing, there are fine points in it, and those who truly repent will always be forgiven by God. Now, will you kindly go upstairs to Mrs. Peach? Don't disturb Christian if she is asleep; but if she is awake, say to her that we all send to her our dear love. Am I right in giving that message, girls? We all, knowing the worst, send our dear love to Christian Mitford."
"Certainly—we send our dearest love," answered two or three.
Even Maud Thompson had given a message. Susan alone was silent.