CHAPTER XLII
THE ROSIE MORROW
For a whole week Rosie worked away at her letter. She followed Danny's advice and added new pages each day. As a result her manuscript grew in bulk with startling rapidity. She had to buy a big envelope for it and then spend a large part of a week's wages on postage stamps.
Here is what she wrote:
Dear George,
How are you and how is your mother and how is your father? Tell your mother that Geraldine is growing so fast that she would hardly know her.
George, I've got some bad news for you. Only it isn't as bad as it sounds, for I know it will be all right in the end. George, Ellen's got married. He's a feather salesman. He wears sporty clothes. He's twenty-six years old. That makes him seven years older than Ellen. He's a good-looker. Him and Ellen are just the same kind. They both like to dress and to gad around.
George, I know you're going to feel awful bad about this at first, but listen, George, it would have been an awful thing to plant Ellen out on a farm. She would have hated it. She would have been unhappy and that would have made you unhappy. And I don't think Ellen and your mother would have liked each other either and they would have to live together and then where would you be? George, don't you see, you're a farmer and you ought to pick out the kind of girl that likes farm life and that knows how to work. George, Ellen just loves the city where she can go to the theatre and dances and things and she never would like the country. Don't you see, George? I don't mean that Ellen was right to get married without telling you. She ought to have told you. I know that. But, George, I think she was a little bit scared of you. Really and truly, George, I don't think she would ever have got engaged to you if that Hawes man hadn't insulted her. Then afterwards, George, she didn't know how to get away from you. But she wanted to, honest she did.
George, I'm awful sorry to be the one to tell you this. But I thought I better because it wouldn't be fair to have you come down on Thanksgiving without knowing. And I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me than from any one else. You and me, George, are awful good friends and I love you like I love Geraldine and I'd give anything not to have to tell you something that will hurt you and make you feel bad. Honest, George, I'm awful sorry.