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Some people love the lilies fair that hide in mossy dells Some folks are fond of new mown hay, before the rainy spells But give to me the orchids rare that hang in Thorley's store, And in Fleischman's at the Hoffman, and in half a dozen more And when I see them far from home they make my heart's blood glow For they take me back to Broadway Where the Orchids Grow.
"And she loves you, don't you, Miss Thorley?" Mary Rose pinched Miss Thorley's arm to remind her that something was expected of her, also. There was a longer pause. Mary Rose had to pinch Miss Thorley's arm a second time and Mr. Jerry, himself, had to ask her in a funny shaky sort of a voice: "Do you, Bess? Do you?"
You see I'm in such a hurry because Miss Thorley's going to take me to the lake and I must carry Jenny Lind downstairs and tell Aunt Kate and be at the front door in a jiffy." She would have darted on but the elderly lady put out a wrinkled hand and caught Mary Rose's blue and white checked apron. "Who's Jenny Lind?" she demanded. "This is Jenny Lind." Mary Rose held up the cage.
I shouldn't want any head on Miss Thorley's shoulders but her very own. It suits me there perfectly." Mr. Jerry eyed Miss Thorley rather critically and screwed his eyes half shut as Miss Thorley did when she was looking at the model she was painting, and his voice was as firm as a voice could be. "Even to have her as wise as your Aunt Kate I shouldn't want her to have Mrs. Schuneman's head."
"Why are you always picking at me?" she demanded of Mr. Wells. "I'm only a little girl and you're a big man but never once since I came to Waloo have you looked as if you wanted to be friends with me. I don't mean to be impudent but you you do make it very hard for me to like you." Her lip quivered and she turned quickly and hid her face against Miss Thorley's white skirt.
Wells wasn't well and didn't wish to be disturbed." Miss Thorley's lip curled disdainfully. "Mr. Wells sick?" Mary Rose was much concerned. "What's the matter?" Miss Thorley shook her head. "Haven't you been down to ask?" Mary Rose always had been sent to ask in Mifflin. "Gracious, no! I shouldn't dare. He'd probably bite my head off." "He couldn't bite your head off if he was sick.
You'll be my boss, I think, and I'll always vote for you." Peter thought the day even more glorious than he had before. The evening after this glorious day, Peter came in from his ride, but instead of going at once to his room, he passed down a little passage, and stood in a doorway. "Is everything going right, Jenifer?" he queried. "Yissah!" "The flowers came from Thorley's?" "Yissah!"
The tears had rushed to Miss Thorley's eyes also and when she discovered that, she discovered also that the hand with which she would have wiped them away was held fast in the firm grasp of Jerry Longworthy. How it had found its way there she never knew. She snatched it from him, her face aflame, and there were no longer tears in her eyes. Mary Rose hugged her aunt and beamed on her friends.
Miss Thorley just jumped up and said instead that really they must go. Mr. Jerry's eyes twinkled as he agreed with her. It was far more pleasant riding to town in Mr. Jerry's automobile than it would have been in the crowded street car. Mary Rose called Miss Thorley's attention to the crowd as she snuggled close to her in the spacious tonneau. "I'm playing it's mine," she whispered, "and that Mr.
Miss Carter only waited to make a face at Mary Rose before she shut the door and left the artist and her model together. Neither spoke for a few moments. Mary Rose was too interested in watching Miss Thorley's wonderful fingers and Miss Thorley was too intent on her work for conversation. At last Mary Rose could keep still no longer. "Are you really an enchanted princess?" she asked eagerly.
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