The Rosie World

"Did they take you to the hospital, too?"

"Yes."

"Well, Janet, what did the doctor say?"

"He said lots of things."

"Didn't he say your mother would be all right soon?"

"He said that depends."

"What does it depend on, Janet?"

Janet laughed, a weak pathetic little laugh that had no mirth in it. "He said she might get well again if she didn't have to work or worry any more. Huh! It's easy to say a thing like that to a poor woman that's got to work or starve, but it would be a good deal more sensible if they'd say right out: 'You better go drown yourself!'"

"Why, Janet!" Mrs. O'Brien's hands went up in shocked amazement.

"I mean it!" Janet insisted fiercely. "Do you suppose my mother works like she does because she wants to? I'd like to see that doctor married to a drunk and have some one say to him: 'Now don't work or worry and you'll be all right.'"

Mrs. O'Brien was much distressed. "Why, Janet dear, you surprise me to be talkin' so about that poor doctor."

"The doctor!" Janet turned on Mrs. O'Brien passionately. "I'm not talking about the doctor! I'm talking about my father!" She paused an instant, then flung out a terrible epithet which even in the mouth of a rough man would have been shocking.

Instinctively Rosie shrank and Mrs. O'Brien raised a startled, disapproving hand.

Janet tossed her head defiantly. "I don't care!" she insisted. "It's all his fault, the drunken brute, and if my mother dies tonight, it'll be him that's murdered her!" She ended with a sob and hid her face on Rosie's shoulder.

Mrs. O'Brien, still scandalised, opened her mouth to speak. But the right word which would express both reproof and commiseration was slow in coming, and at last she was forced to meet the difficulty by fleeing it. "I – I think I must be going in. I think I hear Geraldine. Sit still, Rosie dear." And then, her heart getting the better of her, she ended with: "Poor child! She's not herself today! Comfort her, Rosie!"

Rosie scarcely needed her mother's admonition. "There now, Janet dear, don't cry! Your mother's going to be all right – I know she is! She's been sick before and got over it."

Janet was not a person of tears. She swallowed her sobs now and slowly dried her eyes. "I'm sorry I used such strong language, Rosie, honest I am. And before your mother, too! You've got to excuse me. I know it wasn't ladylike."

"That's all right, Janet. You really didn't mean it."

"Yes, I did mean it," Janet declared truthfully. "If you only knew it, Rosie, there are lots of times I don't feel a bit ladylike! I often use cuss words inside to myself. Don't you?"

No, most emphatically, Rosie did not! She was saved, however, the necessity of having to acknowledge so embarrassing an evidence of feminine weakness by Janet's further pronouncement:

"I tell you what, Rosie, when you come to a place where you want to smash things up, a good big cuss word just helps an awful lot! Don't you think so?"

Rosie cleared her throat a little nervously. "Yes, Janet, I suppose it does."

"You bet it does! And what's more, women have got just as much right to use it as men, haven't they?"

Rosie wanted to cry out: "I don't think they want to! I know I don't!" but, under Janet's fiery glance, the words that actually spoke themselves were: "Yes, of – of course they have."

With the hearty agreement of every one present, there was no more to be said on that subject. Janet turned to another.

"Rosie, will you do something for me? Come and stay all night with me. I'll be so lonely I don't know what I'll do."

Rosie's heart sank. If she spent the night with Janet, she'd have no chance to talk to George Riley, for she'd be gone long before he got home. Besides, there was Dave McFadden, and the thought of sleeping near him was almost terrifying.

"But, Janet dear, how about your father?"

"Oh, I suppose he'll come in soused as usual. But you won't be bothered. I'll get him off to bed before you come and he'll be safe till morning. Please say you'll come, Rosie. I need you, honest I do."

That was true: Janet did need her. George Riley would have to wait.

"All right, Janet. I'll come."

"Thanks, Rosie. I knew you would." Janet paused. "And, Rosie, do you think you could lend me a quarter? I've got to have some money for breakfast. Mother had a dollar in her pocket but I forgot about it at the hospital."

"I haven't a cent, Janet, but I'll raise a quarter somewhere, from Terry or from dad, and I'll bring it with me tonight."

Janet stood up to go. "Come about eight o'clock, Rosie."

Rosie looked at her friend compassionately. "Why don't you stay here for supper?"

Janet shook her head. "I'd like to but I don't think I'd better. He probably won't come home, but he might come and I better be on hand."

Janet started off slowly and reluctantly. Twice she turned back a face so woebegone and desolate that it went to Rosie's heart and, after a few moments, sent her flying for comfort to her mother's ample bosom.

Mrs. O'Brien gathered her in as if were the most natural thing in the world. "What is it, Rosie darlint? What's troublin' you?"

"Ma," she sobbed, "you're well, aren't you?"

"Me, Rosie dear, am I well, do you say?" Mrs. O'Brien looked into Rosie's tearful eyes in astonishment.

"Yes, Ma, you! I want you to be well – always – all the time! You see, Ma, Janet's poor mother – "

"Ah, and is it that that's troublin' you?" Mrs. O'Brien crooned, rocking Rosie from side to side as though she were Geraldine. "Don't you be worryin' your little head about your poor ma. I'm fine and well, thank God, and your poor da is well, and Terry's well, and Jackie's well, and poor wee Geraldine is well, and dear Ellen's well, and we're all – "

"Ellen!" snorted Rosie, her tears abruptly ceasing to flow and her body drawing itself away from her mother's embrace.

"Dear Ellen's well, too," Mrs. O'Brien in all innocence repeated.

"Oh, I know she's well all right!" Rosie declared in tones which even her mother recognised as sarcastic.

"Why, Rosie," Mrs. O'Brien began, "I'm surprised – "

But Rosie, without waiting to hear the end of her mother's reproach, marched resolutely off with all the dignity of a high chin and a stiff military gait.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE CASE OF DAVE McFADDEN

Promptly at eight o'clock Rosie reached the tenement where the McFaddens lived. Janet was on the front steps waiting for her.