With a fine masterfulness George made the decision. "Well, I say movies for tonight." He reached across the table and patted Rosie's face. "Don't forget, kid, you're my girl now. And I tell you what: I'm going to show you a swell time!"
"It's just as you say, Jarge," Rosie murmured meekly.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE SUBSTITUTE LADY
Rosie now entered upon a season of unparalleled gaiety. It was as if she were being rewarded for her generosity in thinking not of herself nor of her dislike for the object of George's fancy but only of George and of his happiness. It had been something of a struggle in the first place to advise a course of action which really might awaken in Ellen an appreciation of George's worth. Well, Rosie had advised it in all frankness and sincerity. That the putting into practice of this advice was working out to Rosie's own advantage is neither here nor there. If, in the campaign which she and Danny had planned, there had to be a substitute lady, why, as an after-thought, should not Rosie herself be that lady?
With George, Rosie never forgot that the relationship was a substitute one. Whenever he did something particularly lover-like, she would commend him as a teacher commends an apt pupil: "Jarge, you certainly are learning!" or, "I don't care what you say, Jarge, but if you were really making love to me and acted this beautiful, you sure could have me!"
In giving him hints about new attentions, she never made the matter personal. She would say, casually: "Now there's one thing a girl just loves, Jarge, and you ought to know it. It's to have her beau do unexpected things for her. I mean if he's used to giving her candy every night, it just tickles her to death to get up some morning and find a little package waiting for her. And if he goes to the trouble of sticking in a little note that says:
"'My dearest Sweetheart, I couldn't wait until to-night to give you this....'
why, she just goes crazy about him. Whatever you do, Jarge, you mustn't forget that girls love to get notes all the time."
This particular instruction Rosie had frequently to repeat before George put it into execution. "Aw, now, Rosie," he used to plead, "you know perfectly well I ain't nuthin' of a letter-writer."