CHAPTER XIV
NEXT day, shortly after noon, Humphrey Meadowcroft wheeled his chair close to one of the front windows and began gazing down into the street. He knew the habitudes of the village and realized that there was little passing between twelve and quarter-before one. Practically everyone in South Paulding had dinner at twelve o’clock with the exception of the postmaster and George Pogany. The hardware merchant sent his clerk home at quarter-before twelve and went himself an hour later. It was Pogany for whom Meadowcroft was now watching. He didn’t know exactly why he felt the desire to scrutinize his face sharply: but as he had over half an hour before he would have the opportunity, he had time to determine his own motive.
He was mildly surprised to see a young girl coming down the street facing towards the post office. He was amazed when he recognized Rose Harrow and saw that she was alone. It came to him suddenly that she had regained her sight during his absence. But Tommy hadn’t mentioned it, and he saw that the girl walked stiffly and in uncertain manner, her feet so close to the wooden walk that she almost shuffled. His heart beat quickly. Either Rose was out of her head or something critical had happened. Seizing his crutches, he made after her as fast as he could.
He lost time by going down by the front stairway to which he was not accustomed. But he overtookthe girl easily. She was feeling her way unsteadily.
“Rose!” he called when he was just behind, knocking with his crutches to let her know who he was, though, as a matter of fact, his voice was unmistakable. “Rose Harrow! Wait a bit!” And, joining her: “Is anything wrong?”
Rose laughed as she stopped short, rather like an automaton.
“How do you do, Mr. Meadowcroft? I heard you were back,” she said as he took her hand. “No, sir, nothing is wrong. Only I had—a plan in mind and just sneaked off. Papa doesn’t come home to dinner and mama’s making blackberry jam. Don’t ever tell, will you?”
“But, my child, you ought not to be in the street alone,” he remonstrated. “Won’t you allow me to come along with you?”
“I’d love to have you, only—the game, you see, Mr. Meadowcroft, is for me to go alone,” the girl explained, speaking very fast, her eyes sparkling, a pretty daring in the piquant little face that was rounder now and rosy. “I’m only going to walk straight ahead about as far as the post office. What harm could there be?”
“None, I daresay. Still, Rose, I wish you would let me go with you,” he urged.
Fancy refusing Mr. Meadowcroft anything! What would Betty say? But the moments were flying and time was very precious.
“It would spoil everything if you did,” she declared plaintively. “Please, Mr. Meadowcroft, am I facing right now? Stopping has sort of mixed me up.”
She hadn’t moved, except to turn her head, and being reassured, said a gay farewell and went on. Meadowcroft stood and watched her. As she went on, she walked more rapidly and steadily. The square which the post office faced was paved with concrete. He saw that she knew when she stepped upon it and that she reached out her hand and felt the side of the stone watering-trough. But his heart seemed to stop as she turned boldly at a right angle and started across the street. Suppose a stranger started to drive into the square at this moment!
But no one appeared, stranger or otherwise. Rose got safely across the street and disappeared, apparently entering the apothecary shop. He hoped she wasn’t going to get some dangerous drug to trifle with. But they wouldn’t, of course, take any chances with a child of her age. And with a sigh of relief Meadowcroft turned and retraced the way to his window in the second story.
Rose Harrow did not, however, enter the apothecary’s but went into the hardware shop next door. Here, she created a greater sensation. Trade was not brisk at this hour—other merchants closed their shops from twelve to one—and George Pogany had been standing by his screen door gazing idly out into the square when he suddenly saw Rose Harrow in the midst of it making straight for the point where he stood. His heart leaped to his throat at the thought that the girl’s sight had been restored. He and her father had been boys together and schoolmates, and Betty and Rose had been intimate friends, and it did not seem strange that she should run down to his shop to bear the glad news.
But she stumbled at the step and put out her handsto feel her way. He rushed out and helped her in with great but very gentle concern.
“Rosy Harrow!” he exclaimed. “My stars! Whatever are you up to, child, way down here and all alone?”
Rose laughed in gay triumph.
“O, I came alone on purpose to see you, Mr. Pogany!” she cried. “Don’t ever tell. It’s a dead secret. Nobody knows it. I have never been one step alone out of doors since last Christmas, and this is good half a mile, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Rosy, good that, but——”
“It wasn’t bad; but my goodness! maybe it isn’t hard to keep straight. If I hadn’t had sneakers on, and if it hadn’t been for the cracks between the boards, I shouldn’t wonder if I’d been at the foundry now or even out to Tamarack Hill.”
George Pogany stared at the girl. He felt weak and shaken.
“Sit down, Rosy—I’ll fetch you a chair,” he said, sighing deeply. And he glanced anxiously out into the back shop wondering if he could venture to leave her alone while he fetched it. But Rose was her quick-witted self. She felt for the glass showcase, moved the length of it until she reached the end, put her hand upon the flat counter, and giving a little spring perched thereon, facing him jauntily.
“Now we must talk business quick, Mr. Pogany, before mama gets her jam cooked and in the jars and begins looking around for me. But first I don’t want you to think that I came at this time because of the streets being empty. I came now because it was thefirst chance I had to slip away. I felt a little bit queer—the least little mite afraid. But I love to walk when Betty’s with me.”
“Betty would ’a come with you in a jiffy, if she’d ’a known.” Pogany said reproachfully, “or I could have stopped at the house if you wanted to see me. It ain’t safe, you know, at all, your coming off so.”
“But it was a secret and I had to see you alone,” she insisted prettily. “Now listen. You know how I am going over to the high school and be just like the others in my class except I can’t take algebra, and I am simply wild to go? But I’ll tell you what I don’t like. I hate like everything to go on the train every day. Mama will worry all the time for fear I’ll be coming home at night with both legs chopped off, and—well, you know Iamsort of reckless and ’twould be just like me to be jumping off before the train stopped.”
“Rosy Harrow!” he cried in utter dismay.
“It’s true, but listen. I got papa off by himself last night and asked him why I couldn’t walk over to Paulding and back just like he and Aunt Maude used to do—Aunt Maude went to Mr. Appleton, too, the same teacher we’re going to have. And papa said, yes, I could, if Betty could go with me. And I hugged him and said he’d save the car-fare, which is ninety cents, and he said I could have it just the same. And so I never said a word to Betty but came right down here to tell you. O, Mr. Pogany, can Betty walk with me?”
“Why, of course, Rosy, if you set such store by it, Betty can go with you,” he assured her heartily, thrilled by the delight of doing something for one so afflicted, and the daughter of his lifelong friend.
“You are sure it won’t be too much for you, Rosy?” he asked anxiously.
“Sure,” she said. Her face sobered, and she added: “You know, Mr. Pogany, you don’t move about so much when you can’t see, and—O, it seems beautiful to walk. And with Betty—it’s so easy and natural I forget—everything.”
“It’s all right then, so far as I’m concerned,” he said warmly.
Rose clapped her hands, slipped down, and catching hold of Mr. Pogany’s shoulders, drew him down and kissed him warmly. He patted her shoulder.
“And I’ll give Betty the money her fares would amount to, so I calculate you two girls will make yourself sick with lollypops,” he declared.
Shortly afterwards, Meadowcroft saw Rose Harrow pass the house with Pogany, her arm in his, chattering and smiling. The hardware man’s tall form was bent awkwardly, and he minced along in a manner comical to witness. But his rather grim face was beaming. And Meadowcroft understood everything when that evening Tommy dropped in to tell him that Betty’s father had given in.
“How did it happen, Tommy?” he asked.
“Nobody knows. That’s the queer part of it. Just as he was going back to the shop after his dinner, he went out to the kitchen where Betty was washing dishes and told her if she wanted to walk to school instead of ride she could. And Betty almost fell over. And she doesn’t hardly ever do much hugging of him, and her hands were in the water. But she just dried ’em a littlemite on her apron and run and put her arms round his neck and kissed him. And she was glad she did it before he told her the rest—which was that she could have her car-fares for keeps—not bad, was it?”
“No, indeed. And she hasn’t any idea what changed him?”
“Nary bit. And then she runs right over to Rose’s and asks her if she doesn’t want to walk part of the time anyhow. And Rose wants to walk all the time, and her mother’s going to talk it over with her father to-night. And her parents are easy marks, you know, compared with Betty’s and mine.”