t, too! And he knew it! Oh, what a weak character
his was, thus to be tempted by the first fair face! Fair face, indeed!
The first ugly face! Yes, ugly! Not even her own mother could call Janet
anything else!
Rosie found uncomfortable places for herself and Tom among the wives and
mothers who, heavy-eyed and dishevelled, were waiting impatiently to
land. Shining over them was no glamour of moonlight. They were plain,
homely, hard-worked women--exactly what Janet McFadden would be some
day, if George Riley had but sense enough to know it. Rosie picked out
the homeliest of them all and wished she had George down beside her so
that she could say to him:
"Do you see that woman? Well, that's what your dear Janet's going to
look like when she grows up!"
Rosie had a mental picture of herself at that same future period, with
golden hair and lovely clothes and heaps and heaps of beautiful jewels.
If she could only give George a glimpse of the great contrast which in a
few years there would be between her and Janet, then he'd feel sorry!
He'd probably get down on his knees and beg her pardon and she, flipping
back some expensive lace from her wrist, would smile at him kindly and
drawl out:
"Oh, that's all right, Mr. Riley. I never think of you any more. You
know how it is when a person has so many wealthy friends. I'm sorry, but
I got to go now, for my automobile is waiting. Good-bye...."
But meanwhile the moonlight was still shining on the upper deck and
Rosie felt perfectly sure that, by this time, Janet was tucked away in
George's coat. Rosie stood the suspense as long as she could, then
jumped up to investigate.
"You wait here for me, Tom," she ordered; "I'll be back in just a
minute."
She hurried off to the upper deck and, of course, found conditions
exactly as she knew they would be. The only thing that showed above
George's coat collar was the tilted edge of Janet's old black sailor
hat. Rosie stepped up quite close to the guilty pair and cleared her
throat, but they heeded her not.
"All right!" Rosie warned them in her own mind. "Just keep on and you'll
both be sorry some day!"
Then she told herself for the fiftieth time what a fool she had been,
and she made a mighty vow never again to loan a gentleman friend to any
one whomsoever.
When she got back to Tom Sullivan, Tom had a bag of peanuts which he
offered her at once. "You like peanuts, don't you, Rosie? It's my last
nickel, except carfare. Aw,
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