r.

"Our new man," said Mrs. Horton to Rosanna, then settled back in her
corner and took out a list which she commenced to check off with a gold
pencil. Rosanna, holding the dog, looked out the windows.

There were children all along the street: little girls playing dolls on
front doorsteps and other little girls walking in happy groups or
skipping rope. Boys on bicycles circled everywhere and shouted to each
other. They made a short cut through one of the poor sections of the
city. Here it was the same: children everywhere, all having the best
sort of time. They were not so well dressed, that was all the
difference. They had the same carefree look in their eyes. Rosanna gazed
out wistfully, longingly.

And now you surely guess why Rosanna, with her beautiful home, her pony
and her playhouse, her lovely garden, and her room full of pretty
things, still was so very, very poor.

Rosanna did not have a single friend.

CHAPTER II

John Culver brought them home and as they left the car Mrs. Horton
enquired, "Is your apartment comfortable, John?"

"Perfectly comfortable, thank you," said Culver.

"You are married?" Mrs. Horton continued.

"Yes," replied Culver.

"Any children?"

"One little girl," said Culver, glancing at Rosanna with a smile.

Mrs. Horton saw the look. She said nothing, but when Rosanna sat before
her at the great round table, eating her luncheon, Mrs. Horton remarked,
"Of course, Rosanna, you will make no effort whatever to meet the child
living over the garage. Unless you make the opportunity, she will never
see you, thanks to the arrangement of the windows. She is a child that
it would be impossible for you to know."

Rosanna did not reply.

"Rosanna?" said her grandmother sharply.

"Yes, grandmother," sighed poor Rosanna.

After luncheon Mrs. Horton dressed and was driven away to a bridge
party. Rosanna practiced scales for half an hour, talked French with her
governess for another long half, and then wandered out into the garden
and commenced to wonder about the child over the garage. How old was
she? What was she like? Rosanna wished she could see her. There was a
rustic seat near the garage and Rosanna went over and curled up on its
rough lap. She stared and stared at the garage, but the blank brick
walls with their curtains of vines gave her no hint.

It seemed as though she had been sitting there for hours when she
fancied a small voice called, "Hello, Rosanna!"

Rosa