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"I wish you would go with me," said Helen wistfully to her mother.
"I do not think I had better," said Mrs. Culver. "She asked particularly for you. Don't get excited whatever is said. I trust you to act as though I was at your side. You know, darling, that I always trust you."
Helen burst into tears. "Oh, mother, dear, dear mother, think of poor, poor Rosanna who has no mother at all to go to for advice!"
Mrs. Culver hugged her little girl tight, wondering if little Rosanna had perhaps gone to the young mother she had lost so long ago.
When Helen entered the library, she found that old Mrs. Horton had collapsed, and was lying on the sofa covered with a blanket. There was a chill in the large, dark room. Mrs. Hargrave, very sober and haggard looking, drew Helen to her and kissed her. Then to Helen's amazement Mrs. Horton kissed her too.
"My dear little girl," she said feebly, "I want to tell you that I find I have made a great mistake, and I am sorry for everything. When Rosanna comes back, I want you two little girls to be the best of friends. And I want you to ask your father to stay with me. Perhaps he will do it if you ask him. Mrs. Hargrave says that he is working on an invention of some sort. He will certainly have as much spare time to give to his studies here as he could in any business I know of. I want you to tell him all this from me."
"Thank you so much," said Helen in her soft little voice. Then there being nothing that she could think of to say, she stood waiting for Mrs.
Horton to speak. But Mrs. Horton wearily turned her gray face to the wall and sighed.
"Would you mind if I go up and speak to Minnie?" Helen asked timidly.
"Not at all," answered Mrs. Horton. "It comforts me to know that there is a child in the house. I think you will find Minnie in Rosanna's room.
You know the way."
Again she turned to the wall as though she had parted with hope, and Helen ran quietly up the broad stairs and down the corridor to Rosanna's room. Minnie was there sitting in her little sewing chair, mending a dress of Rosanna's. Her tears fell on it as she worked.
"Don't do that, Minnie!" she said, throwing her arm around her. "I know we will find Rosanna, and then everything will come out right."
She sat down on Minnie's lap, and told her everything that her father had said, and all that Mrs. Horton had said, and then all about her visit with Mary and Gwenny.
"As far as I go," said Minnie crossly, "the sooner they get all this in the paper the better I will like it. Why, if there is one thing on earth more than another that will stir folks up it is a lost child. All the people, and the Boy Scouts and everybody will be hunting around everywhere."
"And where do the Girl Scouts come in?" asked Helen hotly. "They will do just as good work as the Boy Scouts will." She got up and commenced to walk around the room. Minnie, having finished her sewing, arose too and after a moment's thought produced from somewhere a silk duster, and began wiping off the chairs and other furniture.
Helen watched her idly as she moved about the room, then the two large portraits caught her attention.
"Wasn't Rosanna's mother beautiful?" she said, staring. "Her eyes seem to look right at you as if she was trying to tell you something."
"I don't doubt she is, the dear saint!" said Minnie. "You can't begin to know what a heap Rosanna thinks of those pictures. She used to want to keep flowers in front of each one the way they do in churches in front of the saints; but she didn't dare because she knew her grandmother wouldn't let her. So she used to pick posies and tie little bunches and slip them down behind the picture next the wall. She asked me if I didn't think it would mean just as much. And I know it did, the lamb, the dear, dear lamb! I told her grandmother about it too, every word.
"Why, the day you went to Fontaine Ferry--gracious, it seems a year ago!--she fixed a little bit of a wreath of sweet peas and tucked it behind the picture. It must be there yet all withered."
Minnie went over to the picture, and taking the heavy frame in both hands held the picture away from the wall a little.
Something fell to the floor, but it was not the withered flowers.
When Minnie looked down, she stared and stared and, still staring, crumpled down on her knees, wild, round eyes on the object. Helen ran to her.
"Oh, oh, oh," moaned Minnie, "have I gone mad?"
On the floor tied by a ribbon, was Rosanna's beautiful hair!
For a s.p.a.ce Minnie and Helen stood as though they had been frozen.
Minnie touched the long, soft locks and again moaned but all at once Helen commenced to dance up and down.
"Now we have her, now we have her!" she cried. "Come down and tell Mrs.
Horton, Minnie! We have found Rosanna! Come, come!"
She tried to drag Minnie to the door, but Minnie pulled back.
"What do you mean?" she demanded.
"Why, don't you see?" cried Helen. "She cut it off because she didn't want anybody to know who she was, and everyone always looked at her lovely hair. She gave it to her mother. Oh, _don't_ you see, Minnie? And then she started for your house, and the automobile hit her, and I just _know_ that is our Rosanna in the hospital! Of course Mary was sure it was not Rosanna on account of her hair. Oh, come, let's tell her grandmother. She does truly and truly love Rosanna, Minnie. Come, let's tell her!"
"Yes, and then find out that it isn't Rosanna at all and break her heart for sure," said the practical Minnie. "You go down and tell Mrs.
Hargrave will she please come up here a minute, and you see that she comes. She will know what's best to do."
Minnie bent over the long locks so carefully brushed and tied, and again her tears flowed while Helen sped down the stairs on her errand.
Mrs. Hargrave, who had plenty of common sense, followed at once, and her shock and surprise when she saw the curls of dark hair equalled theirs.
"Minnie is quite right," she said, nodding her head. "Mrs. Horton is in a very bad condition. I feel as though the little girl in the hospital may be Rosanna, but if we should find ourselves mistaken I don't know what the effect on Mrs. Horton would be. Say good-by to Mrs. Horton, Helen, and go tell your mother what we have found. Then ask your father to bring you around to my house in the car. You, Minnie, slip out the back door and meet me outside. Don't say one word until we see who this child is. I don't see why they have not reported her if it is Rosanna.
She must have been asked to tell her name, and Rosanna is not grown up enough to think of making up a name for the occasion. Besides she would be glad to come home. If it is Rosanna--let me hurry!"
One by one they carefully left the house. It was late, and Mrs. Horton seemed to be dozing. Telling the cook to put off getting dinner until Mrs. Horton had rested, Minnie slipped out, and reached Mrs. Hargrave's house just as the car drove up. Mrs. Hargrave came briskly trotting along the walk a moment later and was helped in.
"It is a good thing that I am a trustee and director over at that hospital," she remarked, "so they won't try to fuss about our seeing the child, whoever she is. If it is only Rosanna--"
It was a swift ride. Every heart was beating quickly. If it was only Rosanna!
Entering the hospital, Mrs. Hargrave went to the superintendent's office, where a firm, stern looking woman met them.
"A child was hurt by an automobile last night and brought here," she said briefly.
Mrs. Hargrave interrupted her. "I want to see her," she said.
"It is not the Horton child, if that is what you mean," said the superintendent. "This was a short-haired child in a very ordinary dress.
She was struck on the head and was unconscious for hours. We are surprised that no inquiry has been made."
"I am making one now," said Mrs. Hargrave crisply. "I said I wanted to _see_ this child."
"You know it is against the rules, Mrs. Hargrave," the superintendent objected.
"Fiddle-dee-dee!" said Mrs. Hargrave. "What ward is she in?"
The superintendent gave up. She had known that she would. Mrs. Hargrave always had her own way. She led them down to the elevator, where they waited and waited with what patience they could gather until the car came slowly down and took them up to the general wards.
They tiptoed in. The little girl was bandaged and pale and sleeping heavily; but oh, joy of joys, it _was_ Rosanna!
CHAPTER XVIII