Two days went by, during which Rosanna slept most of the time or tossed about her pretty bed, unable to rest on account of the pain in her head.

Rosanna learned then, for the first time, the lesson that it is never right to run away from the duty that faces us. It came to her slowly but surely in the hours of her recovery that no good ever comes to those who shirk. If Rosanna had waited, she would have saved herself and many others a great deal of unhappiness.

Rosanna was a very little girl, yet she might have stood firm because she knew in her heart that she was not to blame and that should have given her courage. As she lay there and day by day learned from one and another the terrible suffering her running away had brought on every one, Rosanna was filled with shame and despair. How could any one, how could her grandmother ever forgive her?

And the worst of her punishment was that they would not let her talk. She wanted to beg every one who came caring for her so tenderly to forgive her, but the nurse simply would not let her say a word. No one was allowed to stay with her for more than five minutes and then they did all the talking.

This did not go on long, of course. Came a day when the nurse smilingly helped her into a big lounging chair and stood by looking on while a hairdresser straightened and trimmed the haggled locks into a perfectly docked hair cut. A bang almost covered the plasters on her temple and when the task was completed, Rosanna felt very dressed up indeed.

That afternoon she saw Uncle Robert a jolly, affectionate Uncle Robert who came to tell her a great piece of news. He had adopted a French orphan, a lovely little girl belonging to a family that had been wiped out in the war.

“She made me remember that I had a little niece over here,” said Uncle Robert. “I used to tell her about you, and I know you will enjoy knowing her.”

“Isn’t she coming here to live?” asked Rosanna hopefully.

“I don’t know yet,” said Uncle Robert, frowning. “You see I have not told a soul yet excepting yourself. I don’t know how that would strike mother. It seems to me that it would give her a good deal of care. Two girls to bring up, you know. Your Uncle Robert tackled a big problem when he adopted an orphan, don’t you think so, Rosanna?”

“I don’t think so,” said Rosanna, smiling. “Orphans are real easy to keep, Uncle Robert. You see there are not many bad ones like me.”

“I won’t have you say that!” said Uncle Robert, giving the hand he was holding a little shake. “I think you are a real easy orphan: easy to get along with and easy to look at and easy to keep. I hope mine will be half so good, and I hope I will love her a quarter as well as I do my niece Rosanna.”

“Oh, thank you, Uncle Robert!” sighed Rosanna. “I am so glad you are home. I had forgotten how nice you are.”

Uncle Robert rose. “We have said so many nice things to each other that I feel all good and happy inside,” he laughed. “And before something happens to make me feel otherwise, here goes your little Uncle Bobby downstairs to talk the thing over with mother. She is in the library with Mrs. Hargrave. The fact is, Rosanna, I was so glad to be at home again and so busy with one thing and another, that I forgot all about Elise. That’s her name; Elise. This morning I had a letter from the Red Cross people, and they expect to come over in a couple of weeks. So I must get busy. But honestly, Rosanna, I do think it would be pretty hard for mother to take her in. I could enter her in some good boarding-school in the city.”

“But they wouldn’t love her!” cried Rosanna. “Little girls want to be loved.”

Uncle Robert cleared his throat. “We will have to see to that part somehow, won’t we, Rosanna? Well, I will talk to mother, and as soon as we decide I will come and tell you about it. At least I will if you will promise to take a nap.”

“I will if you will promise to wake me up.”

“It’s a go!” agreed Uncle Robert, and went off whistling.

Mrs. Horton heard the whistle.

“Robert has something on his mind,” she said to Mrs. Hargrave. “He has whistled just like that ever since he was a tiny boy whenever he was fussed or worried or in mischief. He will come in here and tell me something; just you see if he doesn’t. Well, Robert,” as the young man entered, “did you find Rosanna looking pretty well?”

“Perfectly fine! That child is going to be a beauty some day, mother. I never realized how pretty she is.”

“You have been gone three years, and that makes all the difference in the world in a child her age,” said Mrs. Horton.

“That may be so,” conceded Robert. Then he tumbled headlong into his story, and Mrs. Horton looked at Mrs. Hargrave with an amused smile.

“Well, mother, I want to ’fess up to something. I hope you will not pass judgment until I have told you the whole story. Do you both care to listen?”

Both ladies assured him that they would be delighted.

“For a couple of months I was billeted in a little French village near the border. I was fortunate to find my quarters in a house which must have been very fine at one time. It was very nearly a ruin when I arrived but the owner, an old noblewoman, was still living in one corner and welcomed me as though she was still a woman of leisure and fortune greeting an expected and distinguished guest. She was certainly a dear old lady and we were regular pals in no time.

“She did all the work; of course there was no one to help her, except her little niece, an orphan girl about the age of Rosanna. It must have been Rosanna that made me notice her, and she was certainly a dainty little thing. The aunt was miserably ill. I got one of our doctors after her case, but he said there was no hope. She was simply burned out with the terrors and hardships she had been through. And her heart was all to the bad.

“She knew it, the plucky old dear. She was a gallant soldier, I can tell you! One night she woke me groaning. I hurried in to her and told her she must let me take care of her all I could. I told her I had a mother at home and all that sort of thing, you know, to make her easy about having me wait on her, and she was no end grateful more than I deserved. But she worried. She knew that she didn’t have the strength to go through many attacks like that, and how she did mourn over that niece. I didn’t blame her, seeing the way things are over there.

“It went along two weeks more, and one night I heard a gentle tapping on the door of my room. It was Elise, the little girl. Her aunt was having another attack. I hurried in, and as soon as I saw her I knew the poor old lady was going where she would not have to slave and starve any more, and going soon. She took my hand.

“‘Elise; oh, Elise!’ she managed to gasp. Mother, honestly I just could not help it! I said, ’Don’t worry, madame! I have told you of my mother and my home. I would esteem it so great a favor, such an honor, if you would give Elise to me.’”

Mrs. Horton’s lip trembled. Mrs. Hargrave let two large tears slip unnoticed down her pretty, faded pink cheeks.

“Well, she died perfectly happy,” continued Robert. “And there I was with a little girl on my hands! I turned her over to some women I knew in the Red Cross, and she has been well taken care of ever since. I saw her when I stopped over in Paris on my way home. Food and a little care had made her look like a different child.

“Then I sailed, and she sort of slipped my mind until this morning. I have a letter here telling me that the Red Cross friends are about to sail for home and they are bringing Elise, of course. That was the first time I really realized what I had let myself in for. I might have put her in a convent over there if I had not promised the old lady that I would personally look after her. But I did promise!

“Now what I want is some advice. Remember, I am not asking you to have Elise here. You have Rosanna and I think that is enough. But you both must know of some nice place where she can be placed and where it would be homelike. I told Rosanna about it when I was up there just now, and she didn’t want me to put her in a school. She said little girls wanted to be loved.”

Mrs. Horton winced.

“Did she suggest a place for her?” she asked.

“Yes, she did,” said Robert.

“Didn’t she ask you to bring her here?” continued Mrs. Horton.

“Oh, Virginia, wait; please wait!” cried Mrs. Hargrave suddenly. “Oh, Virginia, you have Rosanna, and now Robert is home. You don’t know how lonely I am. Virginia, Robert dear, you have known me all your life but I am not nearly, nearly as old as I look, and I can love. Give me your little girl, Robert! She can be your ward just the same, but let me have her for my little daughter. I am so lonely, and I will be so good to her!”

Mrs. Hargrave buried her face in her tiny handkerchief and sobbed. Robert glanced at his mother. She nodded. Robert went over to Mrs. Hargrave and folded his strong arms round the little old lady.

“Dear old friend, how can I ever thank you?” he said. “Of course I know you will be good to the child! Elise is yours!”