it
from her in disgust but she found that she could not. Like a bad
conscience, it stayed with her, dogging her steps even on her paper
route.

It had the effect of colouring everything that she saw or heard. When
she handed a paper to Mrs. Donovan, the policeman's wife, who exclaimed:
"What do you think of the beautiful new hammock that Mr. Donovan has
just gave me?" Rosie remarked in a tone that was almost sarcastic: "Oh,
ain't you lucky!" and to herself she added cynically: "And I'd like to
know who gave you that black-and-blue spot on your arm!"

She found one of the Misses Grey pale and haggard under the strain of a
hot-weather headache. Rosie forced her unwilling tongue to some
expression of sympathy; but, once on her way, she told her disgruntled
self that what she had wanted to say was: "Well, Miss Grey, I must say,
if I didn't know you was an old maid, I'd ha' taken you for a happy
married woman!"

Near the end of the route, she found old Danny Agin waiting, as usual,
for his paper. His little blue eyes twinkled Rosie a welcome, and his
jolly cracked voice called out: "How are you today, Rosie?"

For a moment Rosie gazed at him without speaking. Then she shook her
head, and sighed.

"You look all right, Danny Agin, just as kind and nice as can be, but I
guess Mis' Agin knows a few things about you!"

Danny blinked his eyes several times in quick succession. "What's this
ye're sayin', Rosie?"

"Oh, nuthin'. I was only saying what a nice day it was. Good-bye."

Rosie started resolutely away, then paused. She really wanted some one
with whom to talk out her perplexity, and here was Danny Agin, a man of
sound sense and quick sympathy, and her own sworn friend and ally.

Rosie turned back and, seating herself on the porch step at Danny's
feet, looked up into Danny's face.

"What's troublin' you, Rosie dear?" Danny's tone was kind and invited
confidence.

Rosie shook her head gloomily. "Danny, I'm just so mixed up that I don't
know where I'm at. You know Janet McFadden? Well----"

Rosie took a long breath and, beginning at the beginning, gave Danny a
full account of yesterday's discussion. She brought her story down to
that very morning when her mother had called her upstairs to tie the
broken corset string. At this point she paused and sighed, then looked
at Danny long and searchingly.

"And, Danny, listen here: _There wasn't any scar at all!_ I hunted over
every scrap of both shoulders and I felt '