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Updated: June 23, 2025
"Yes, a dear, good girl who worked hard in the mill and who was very good to our Rosemarie; I was making poor shifts at buying a little girl's clothes, and Zelie Dionne was wise in those matters and was busy with her needle." "I hope you been excuse me," broke in old Etienne. "I overheard the name of Zelie Dionne, but I don't mean to listen.
I know the way to the shrine of La Bonne Sainte Anne I will go with the little Rosemarie and she shall sing and dance after that." For a moment the cynical smile of the skeptic etched itself at the corners of Farr's mouth the flash of the nature the young man had hidden during recent weeks. He turned to Zelie Dionne and found her regarding him with grave eyes.
"I have been talking to our little Rosemarie and she will not cry any more for her good mamma who has gone up to the green hills because she is sick and must rest. So Rosemarie will be patient and live here and I will be play-mamma." "Yes, play-mamma," agreed the child. "Good play-mamma! Two mammas! But only one papa!"
And the next day Rosemarie's tiny fingers stopped their flutterings and she went away somewhere! Walker Farr would not allow the tiny body of Rosemarie to be carried away in the white hearse.
In her prostration of mental energies and of hope she confessed to herself that she had loved him. But now between his face and hers, as she shut her eyes and reproduced his features, limned in her memory, those fiery words danced there was a "play-mamma" who with him had loved the little girl named Rosemarie. Checking her sobs, she sighed, and her heart surrendered him.
It is too long a story for you now. No matter about that, but I " "I know about Rosemarie," she confessed. "And my heart opened and something new came into it, little sister of the rose. And now on this spot I stand, and all joy and hope and love are dead for me when I give back to you these dear little hands." She was still staring at him. "But I must not I dare not speak of it," he proceeded.
He ate that supper after his day's work was done and after he had laved his face and hands in the overflow from a public fountain in a little square. Then he hurried to the house of the good woman. She was busy with her dishes in the kitchen and Rosemarie was on the knees of a young woman who sat and rocked in one of the sitting-room chairs.
And so Etienne Provancher found them when he came with his rake and pike-pole at six o'clock, the hour when the great turbines began to grunt and rumble in their deep pits. "It is Rosemarie I found her in the room," said Walker Farr. The old man came close and gazed down on the pallor and pathos of this little snipped who still stared at the new wonders of outdoors. "Anodder one, hey?
You are a token for him from little Rosemarie who has gone away; you are friend, you are son, you are in his eyes destined savior of these poor people." "I am glad I am going away. I would hate to betray such childlike faith. Good-by, Miss Zelie!" He heard her call to him when he was in the street. He turned and halted and saw her slim, white figure at the gate, and he stepped back half-way.
They walked slowly because little Rosemarie found marvels for childish eyes at every step, and even the cool carpet of the grass provided unfailing delight as she set slow and cautious footsteps into its yielding luxuriance. The old man plodded ahead, muttering and frowning as he peered down at the flotsam in the motionless waters.
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