folding-bed in the sewing-room, everything seems
upside down. I never thought I should live to see strange men running in
and out of this house and carrying latch-keys."
This in reference to Le Moyne, whose tall figure had made a hurried exit
some time before.
Nothing could have symbolized Harriet's revolt more thoroughly than her
going upstairs after a hurried breakfast, and putting on her hat and
coat. She had heard of rooms, she said, and there was nothing urgent in
the work-room. Her eyes were brighter already as she went out. Sidney,
kissing her in the hall and wishing her luck, realized suddenly what
a burden she and her mother must have been for the last few years. She
threw her head up proudly. They would never be a burden again--never, as
long as she had strength and health!
By evening Mrs. Page had worked herself into a state bordering on
hysteria. Harriet was out most of the day. She came in at three o'clock,
and Katie gave her a cup of tea. At the news of her sister's condition,
she merely shrugged her shoulders.
"She'll not die, Katie," she said calmly. "But see that Miss Sidney eats
something, and if she is worried tell her I said to get Dr. Ed."
Very significant of Harriet's altered outlook was this casual summoning
of the Street's family doctor. She was already dealing in larger
figures. A sort of recklessness had come over her since the morning.
Already she was learning that peace of mind is essential to successful
endeavor. Somewhere Harriet had read a quotation from a Persian poet;
she could not remember it, but its sense had stayed with her: "What
though we spill a few grains of corn, or drops of oil from the cruse?
These be the price of peace."
So Harriet, having spilled oil from her cruse in the shape of Dr. Ed,
departed blithely. The recklessness of pure adventure was in her blood.
She had taken rooms at a rental that she determinedly put out of her
mind, and she was on her way to buy furniture. No pirate, fitting out
a ship for the highways of the sea, ever experienced more guilty and
delightful excitement.
The afternoon dragged away. Dr. Ed was out "on a case" and might not be
in until evening. Sidney sat in the darkened room and waved a fan over
her mother's rigid form.
At half after five, Johnny Rosenfeld from the alley, who worked for a
florist after school, brought a box of roses to Sidney, and departed
grinning impishly. He knew Joe, had seen him in the store. Soon the
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