After Helen had looked the wonderful kitchen over to her heart’s content, the children went back to the pretty living-room, where they examined the books in the little bookcase, and then each carrying a comfy wicker chair, went out on the wide porch. A big grass rug was spread there, and there was a little porch swing and a wicker table.

Rosanna commenced to tell Helen about herself. She told much more than she intended, and by the time she had finished, Helen knew more about her new friend than Rosanna’s own grandmother had ever guessed.

Helen herself was a very happy, busy little girl, with wise and loving parents. They were poor, and Mr. Culver had very wisely taken the first position that offered as soon as he came home from France and found that the firm he had formerly worked for had given his position to some one else, a man much less capable than Mr. Culver and who worked willingly for wages that Mr. Culver did not feel like accepting. Yes, they were poor, but as Mr. Culver said, “Just you wait, folkses; this will be fun to remember some day.” And Mrs. Culver called it “our school” and told Helen that they must both strive to know the best and easiest way of doing everything while they had to do all for themselves.

Helen’s eyes filled with tears when she heard of the death of Rosanna’s young father and mother in a railroad accident when she was such a little thing that now she could scarcely remember them.

“And then you came to live with your grandmother?” she said, struggling not to go to Rosanna and hug her tight. A little girl without mother or father! It was too dreadful.

“Yes, she came to the hospital and as soon as I was well I was just scratched up a little she brought me here.”

“Well,” said Helen briskly, “it must be fine to have a grandmother. I suppose grandmothers are ’most exactly as good as mothers,” she went on, trying to make light of Rosanna’s misfortune. “I expect they cuddle you and play with you and hold you ’most exactly like mothers.”

“Mine doesn’t,” said Rosanna sadly. “She kisses me good-night; at least she holds her cheek so I can kiss her, but she never plays with anybody. And she never holds me: she says I am too big to get on people’s laps. But I guess I must have been a big baby because she never did hold me even when I was little. There must be different kinds of grandmothers.”

“A little girl I know has one, and my grandmother says that it is a disgrace the way she spoils that child, and she says she wants me to grow up to be an honor to our house. You see I am the only grandchild there is.

“Grandmother had a daughter long ago, but she died when she was only two, and grandmother was married twice and both her husbands died.”

“You seem to have quite a dying family,” said Helen politely.

“Yes, we have.” Rosanna commenced to feel quite proud of the fact now that Helen had mentioned it.

“I have an uncle too, and he ’most died over in France but he is home now.”

“My father was there too,” said Helen proudly. “He had to give up everything to go, but mother wouldn’t let him say that he had to stay home and work for us so he went. Mother went to work typewriting and we lived in three rooms, and I went to school and cooked our suppers at night. Mother used to come home so tired. After the dishes were washed, we used to sit and knit. I learned to knit without looking on, so I could knit and study all at the same time. You are the only friend I have here in Louisville,” concluded Helen, “but of course when school begins I will have lots of them.”

Rosanna was conscious of a jealous pang. She didn’t want this bright-eyed little girl who had just come into her life to have other friends.

“I don’t see why you have to have other friends if you have me,” she said. “Why can’t we play together all the time, and have good times? My grandmother said I was to take you riding every day, and we can have such fun. If you have a lot of other friends, Helen, you won’t come here at all.”

“Why, yes, I will, Rosanna! You will be my bestest friend of all. But mother says we all need a number of people in our lives because if we don’t we will all get to thinking the same things and talking the same way, and it is very bad for us.”

“Well, I can’t have any,” said Rosanna hopelessly. “I told you that before. I suppose if she hadn’t had to go to New York, I would never have had you for a friend. That is the way my grandmother is.”

“Oh, well,” said Helen, “when she gets back we will explain things to her, and I am sure she will get to understand all about things. Why, you just have to have friends, Rosanna, and I want you to have me if you think you like me enough.”

“Oh, I do; indeed I do!” cried Rosanna. “I just can’t stand it if she doesn’t let me have you! We will have such good times, Helen, and I can learn to cook, and we can learn to play duets together and it will be such fun.”

“I should say so!” said Helen happily. “And don’t you think it would be fun to see what all we can do for ourselves? I mean without asking Minnie. I am sure mother would think it would make us sort of helpless. Of course she is your maid, and if you would rather have her to do things for you ”

“No; let’s do everything ourselves,” said Rosanna, eager to please, and with a feeling that with someone to enjoy it with her the task would be a pleasure.

“I tell you what, Helen, until school opens I can be your very best friend, and you can play with me ’most all the time, and we will be so happy.”

Minnie watched them from a side window in the big house but they did not see her. Minnie was pleased. She had heard what Mrs. Horton had said about some child coming to play with Rosanna. Minnie being wiser than Rosanna and grown up, knew very well that Mrs. Horton did not mean Helen Culver. But Minnie had had one or two disastrous experiences with the children who went to the very select dancing school with Rosanna, and the quiet, pretty, well-behaved girl playing there in the garden seemed almost too good to be true. She had never seen Rosanna look so well and so happy. She was glad to see the chauffeur’s child “makin’ good” as she expressed it. Minnie’s young man had also returned from overseas and she was sewing every spare moment on things for her own little house and for herself. If Rosanna had a chance to play all day every day for a whole week, or as long as Mrs. Horton stayed away and Minnie piously wished her a long trip why, she could be ready for the young man and the little house just that much sooner.

As soon as this most splendid thought found its way into Minnie’s mind she commenced to make plans to help the children, and as the first one occurred to her she put her work in her pocket and hurried across to the playhouse, where she fairly gasped at the sight of Rosanna awkwardly but cheerfully sweeping leaves and stems off the porch while Helen shook the rugs.

“Time for you to dress for the evening. Miss Rosanna,” she said. “And wouldn’t you like to invite Miss Helen over to supper, and have it served here on your own porch?”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be fun?” cried Rosanna “Wouldn’t you like that, Helen?”

“Indeed I would!” said Helen. She jumped off the porch and looked to see if the rug was straight. “I will go right home and ask my mother and if I don’t come straight back and tell you, you will know that I can come to supper.” She ran off, returning just at supper time.

Minnie served the meal and it was all as delicious as a party. Even the cook was glad to see Rosanna really happy. And after the last bit of the dessert, a pink ice-cream, had been slowly eaten, the two little girls sat talking in quite a grown-up manner.

Presently Helen’s bright eyes spied a lady at the other end of the garden.

“Someone is coming!” she exclaimed.

“That is a friend of grandmother’s. She is coming over every day to see how I am getting along.”

“Good-evening, Rosanna,” said the lady. “I think this looks as though you were having a very nice time indeed.”

“We are, Mrs. Hargrave,” said Rosanna. “This is my friend, Helen Culver.”

Helen curtseyed.

“How do you do, Helen,” said Mrs. Hargrave. “The Culvers of Lee County, I suppose. A fine old family, my dears. As good as yours, Rosanna. Well, well, I am glad you are both having a nice time! If you want anything of me, Rosanna, telephone me and I will be over every day. You little girls must both come and have luncheon with me some day.” She bade them good-night and walked off, feeling that she had done her whole duty.

“It is time for me to go home,” said Helen. “I didn’t practice my half hour this evening, so I must go and do it now.”

“I didn’t practice either,” said Rosanna. “I want to work hard at my music if we are to play duets. I don’t want to be the one who always has to play secondo. Besides, I have a bee-u-ti-ful secret for to-morrow.”