“Well, it looks that way,” laughed Helen, “from the pile of typing that awaits me. Yes, I am, as you say, in a fair way to become a stenographer, but Ye Stars! if I do not become an expert one, I’ll—well I’ll go hang myself, as the boys say, for I must succeed!”
“Oh, are you really going, friend comforter?” laughed Nathalie, as Helen rose to go. “Yes, you are that, for you have given me lots of comfort this morning; you put new life in me when the cause was almost lost. On the strength of your calculations I’m going to lay my plans before Mother, and then I’m going to get some books and trinkets and go to see Rosy.”
“Oh, yes, how is she?” inquired Helen interestedly. “I was thinking about her the other day.”
“She is getting along nicely, but it is awfully hard for the little thing to lie there most of the time alone. I was down to see her yesterday and told her some stories, and I promised to come again to-day.”
“I wish I could help you! But see here, Nathalie, speak to Grace and Lillie about the story-telling; perhaps they will help you at that. Grace is a lady with plenty of leisure to waste, and Lillie Bell dotes on yarns.”
“I did ask Lillie, but she said she was no good telling stories to children, and Grace—why, she said she was busy getting her clothes ready for the summer.”
“There’s Kitty. Ah, I expect to see her this afternoon. I’ll ask her to lend you a hand, but I must go, so good-by and good luck to you, Story Lady!”
“Oh, Mother, you are just a dear!” cried Nathalie a little later, as she was about to set forth to see Rosy. Her mother had come down from the attic with a couple of old picture-books, and handed them to her to give to the little invalid.
“Gloriana! won’t they make her eyes shine!” exclaimed Nathalie as she tucked them under her arm, picked up the basket of goodies she had prepared, and hurried down the walk. As she knocked at the door of the gray shanty she heard Rosy whimpering softly. “Poor kiddie,” she thought, with a wave of pity. Receiving no answer she pushed open the door, which was partly ajar, and entered. On the bed lay the little form with its head buried in a pillow, emitting a series of feeble whines.
“Good morning!” said the smiling visitor as she touched the half-buried shoulder.