Mary Rose of Mifflin Part 27

Mr. Jerry smiled at her flushed face. His own face was flushed and it had a wonderful radiance to Mary Rose as she looked up at him. "Love did it, Mary Rose." He squeezed her hand. "Love for you and love for me. Love's the only thing that can break old Independence's spell."

"Independence isn't a wicked witch, Mary Rose," interrupted Miss Thorley, who was squeezing Mary Rose's other hand.

"Isn't she?" Mary Rose was doubtful. Mr. Jerry had said she was a most wicked witch.

"A wicked witch would never make a girl brave and strong and self----"

"Self-supporting like George Washington," Mary Rose broke in jubilantly.

"Self-supporting," Miss Thorley accepted the word with a smile, "and keep her safe and busy until her prince came and she could be a real help to him. Independence isn't a wicked witch, Mary Rose. She's a girl's good fairy."

"Is she, Mr. Jerry?" Mary Rose had to have that theory indorsed before she could be quite sure. "Is she?"

"I expect she is," Mr. Jerry handsomely admitted. "Perhaps I've been mistaken in the old girl. Anyway we're friends now, good friends.

And, Mary Rose," he went on grandly, "ask me what you will and you shall have it, even to the half of my kingdom. I can't give you the whole of it because the other half, the half that includes me, is now the property of the most beautiful princess in the world."

The most beautiful princess in the world laughed in a funny choked sort of a way and she hugged Mary Rose. "You see, honey girl," she said, and Mary Rose loved her voice now that the enchantment was broken and she could hear how soft and sweet it was, "we own him together, you and I."

Mary Rose looked at their joint property with awe and admiration. "Do we?" It scarcely seemed possible. "Aren't we the lucky girls!"

CHAPTER XXVII

Never did a five-pa.s.senger automobile hold more happiness than that car of Mr. Jerry's as it was driven slowly back to the Washington that wonderful September evening. And never did the Washington look more pleasant. A little group of tenants, Mrs. Schuneman, Mrs. Willoughby, Mrs. Matchan and Miss Carter, were standing out in front talking of what had happened the night before. Mary Rose waved her hand to them and to Bob Strahan, who was hurrying up the street.

"Say!" he called. "I've found out who owns the Washington. It's old Wells!"

"Mr. Wells!" They stared from him up to the windows of Mr. Wells'

apartments which were wide open.

"Yep! I had to dig up some stuff over at the building inspector's and ran plump against the fact that the owner of the Washington has always been Horace J. Wells. No wonder he acted as if he owned it."

"But he told me he was a friend of the owner," objected Mary Rose, when she understood.

"I guess he isn't a friend to anyone but himself," murmured Bob Strahan.

Mary Rose sat there in the car and tried to think it out. If Mr. Wells really did own this strange two-faced building why hadn't he told her so when she had asked him to plead for her? She supposed that he had made up his mind that she would have to leave, that the law never would let children live there, and hated to tell her. Mary Rose felt as if a black cloud had fallen over this day that had been so happy and she winked rapidly to keep the tears from her eyes. She even tried to wave her hand to Aunt Kate when she came to the window.

Contrary to custom Aunt Kate did not wave back but ran out. She had a letter in her hand and looked very, very much pleased.

"You've heard good news, Mrs. Donovan. Who's died and left you a million?" asked Bob Strahan. "Your face looks like a Christmas tree, all decorated and lighted."

"Have you?" Mary Rose asked and she jumped from the car and stood beside her aunt. "Have you heard good news, Aunt Kate? Has anyone left you a million?"

Aunt Kate stooped and put her arms around Mary Rose. "It's worth more 'n a million to me, Mary Rose. I've had the best of news. Larry's had a letter from Brown an' Lawson." She stood up and looked from one to the other of the people who had gathered around her. There were tears in her eyes. "They say we can keep Mary Rose. That so long as the tenants are willin' an' because she's gettin' older every day they won't insist on the rule of the house bein' enforced. They say Mary Rose can stay as long as we want to keep her."

"Hurrah for Mary Rose!" cried Bob Strahan and he flung his hat into the air.

"Hurrah for Mary Rose!" echoed Jimmie Bronson, who had run around the corner to stand grinning at Mary Rose.

Mary Rose stood quite still and stared at her aunt. Her blue eyes were very large and as bright as stars. "I can stay," she said softly, almost unbelievingly. "I can really stay? Oh, where's Mr. Wells!

Where is Mr. Wells! I want to tell him this very minute how much obliged I am. Oh, there he is!"

For Mr. Wells had actually come up the street and was about to slip grumblingly past the little group that blocked the walk. Mary Rose ran to him.

"I can't thank you," she said in a trembling voice, although the radiance in her face should have thanked anyone. "But I do think you are the very friendliest man that G.o.d ever made!"

Friendly! Mr. Wells actually blushed. He tried to frown but the attempt was a wretched failure for Mary Rose had dropped a soft kiss on the hand she had clasped. "See that you do what I promised the owner you'd do," he grunted, making a failure, also, of his attempt to speak crossly. "See that you grow older every day."

"Oh, I will!" promised Mary Rose. "I will!" she repeated firmly and she squeezed his hand as she looked up at the big red brick building that could now be her home. The spell had been removed from it, too.

There were tears in her blue eyes as she dropped Mr. Wells' hand and put out her arms as if she would take them all into her embrace. Her face was like a flower, lifted to the sun, as she cried from the very depths of her happy, grateful heart:

"I--I just knew this beautiful world would be full of friends if I felt friendly!"