"All out!" George cried at the end of the route, and everybody but Rosie meekly obeyed.
George was about to pull the bell, when Rosie called: "Wait, Jarge! There comes a girl!"
The girl was half running, half staggering, and George stepped off the car to help her on. As the light of the car fell on the girl's face, Rosie jumped to her feet, crying out in amazement: "Ellen!"
Yes, it was Ellen, but not an Ellen they had ever seen before—an Ellen with hat awry and trembling hands and a face red and swollen with weeping.
"George!" she sobbed hysterically, "is that you! I'm so glad! You'll take me home, won't you? I haven't got a cent of carfare!"
George helped her into the seat beside Rosie and started the car. Then he leaned in over Rosie and demanded:
"What's the matter, Ellen? What's happened?"
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE KIND-HEARTED GENTLEMAN
For several moments Ellen sobbed and shook without trying to speak. Then, instead of answering George's question, she turned solemnly to Rosie. "Oh, kid," she begged, "promise me you'll never have anything to do with a man like Philip Hawes!" There was an unexpected tenderness in her tone but this, far from touching Rosie, stirred up all the antagonism in her nature. Why, forsooth, should Ellen be giving her such advice? Was she the member of the family who was given to chasing men like Philip Hawes? Rosie sat up stiffly and turned her face straight ahead.