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Updated: June 16, 2025
Quickly she changed the subject to the one bright spot in the Volsky family to Lily. "Your little sister," she asked Bennie, "has she always been as she is now? Wasn't there ever a time when she could hear, or speak, or see?" Bennie winked back a suspicion of tears before he answered. Rose-Marie, who found herself almost forgetting the episode of the kitten, liked him better for the tears.
He looked at her inquiringly, raising his eyebrows. It was clear that he noticed something strange in her voice; also that he did not know what it meant. But he sat down and began rolling a fresh cigarette. The flat silver box in which he carried his tobacco lay on the table beside him, and she idly took it up. "Rose-Marie
Yer th' only girl as I've ever wanted t' tie up to, get that? How'd yer like t' marry me?" For one sickening moment Rose-Marie thought that she had misunderstood. And then she saw his face and knew that he had been deadly serious. Her hands fluttered up until they rested, like frightened birds, above her heart.
Diseased minds have been out of my line. Perhaps that's why I've come through with an ideal of life that's slightly different from your sunshine and apple blossoms theory!" "Oh," Rose-Marie was half sobbing, "oh, you're so hard!" The Young Doctor faced her suddenly and squarely. "Why did you come here," he cried, "to the slums? Why did you come to work in a Settlement House?
But her head went up rather gallantly. "No, I ain't," she retorted. "Marriage," she said the words parrot-like, "was made fer th' sort o' folks who can't stick at nothin' unless they're tied. I ain't one of those folks!" Across the nearly forgotten suit-case, Rose-Marie leaned toward Ella Volsky. Her eyes were suddenly hot with anger. "Who gave you that sort of an argument?" she demanded.
Bennie was young enough to change, and easily. He got into the way of waiting for her, after his school had been dismissed, in the little park. And there, seated close together on an iron bench, they would talk; and Rose-Marie would tell endless stories. Most of the stories were about knights who rode upon gallant quests, and about old-time courtesy, and about wonderful animals.
All at once he realized that Rose-Marie was a distinct addition to the humdrum life of the place; that she was like a sweet old-fashioned garden set down in the gardenless slums. He started to say something of the sort before he remembered that a quarrel lay, starkly, between them. Rose-Marie, herself, could scarcely have told why she was so bubbling over with gladness.
Rose-Marie" was it possible that her eyes were fixed a shade inquiringly upon the blushing girl "would have nothing to do with any one who had not been approved by her aunts. And she realizes that she is, in a way, under my care that I am more or less responsible for her safety and welfare. Rose-Marie is trustworthy, absolutely trustworthy. And she is old enough to take care of herself.
"Ella," she asked slowly, "are you going alone?" The girl's face coloured swiftly, with a glorious wave of crimson. She tossed her head with a defiant movement. "No, I ain't goin' alone!" she told Rose-Marie. "You kin betcha life I ain't goin' alone!" Rose-Marie sitting beside her on the floor asked God, silently, for help before she spoke again. She felt suddenly powerless, futile.
"What's the matter here?" he questioned sharply. Rose-Marie was not conscious of the words that she used as she described Lily's accident. She glossed over Jim's part in it as lightly as possible; she told, as quickly as she could, the history of the child. And as she told it, the doctor's lean capable hands were passing, with practiced skill, over the little relaxed body.
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