for Friday night they ain't
nuthin' 'd suit me better! Thanks ever so much!"

Rosie, still behind George's chair, shot an annihilating glance at
Ellen. That young woman, a trifle piqued perhaps but still amused,
tossed her head and laughed.

"Ma, I don't think it's right the way Rosie's getting a grown-up fella
and me not even engaged yet! I don't think you ought to allow it!"

"Ellen, Ellen, your tongue's entirely too long!" Mrs. O'Brien looked at
her reprovingly, but Ellen, in a sudden change of mood, heeded her not.
She was gazing at Rosie with speculative eyes. When she spoke, it was in
a tone from which all banter and ill-humour had vanished.

"Ma, if Rosie does go with George Riley, there's just one thing: she's
got to have a new dress. The poor kid hasn't a stitch to her back. She
ought to have a little pink dimity. She's just sweet in pink. Lucky,
too, there's a sale on tomorrow at the Big Store. So you needn't say a
word--I'm going to get her something. And I'll trim her a hat, too."

Mrs. O'Brien protested that she hadn't the price of a ten-cent hat, let
alone a dress, but Ellen, as usual, was firm, and Rosie knew that she
was now destined to go to the picnic prettily costumed. Rosie would have
liked to nurse a while longer her indignation against Ellen but, as
Ellen was the only person in the house who knew how to trim a hat out of
little or nothing and how to whip together a pretty little dress, Rosie
was forced to change her manner of open hostility to one of a more
friendly reserve.

On the whole Rosie was jubilant. "I'm sure I don't know why it is," she
said to Janet McFadden, "but people are pretty nice to me, aren't they?"

"Nice?" echoed Janet with long-drawn emphasis. "Well, I should think
they are!... Say, Rosie, listen:"--Janet paused a moment--"do you think
Tom and me and you and Jarge could all go together? Do you think Jarge'd
mind?"

Rosie considered the request carefully before answering. Then she spoke
as kindly as she could: "I'm sure I don't know, Janet. Perhaps he'd like
it all right, but, then again, perhaps he wouldn't. Don't you know, men
are so queer nowadays. Anyway, though, I tell you what: I'll ask him."

"Will you, Rosie?" Janet's gratitude was almost pathetic.

Later, in presenting the case to George himself, Rosie's manner lost its
air of Lady Bountiful, and she pleaded Janet's cause with an earnestness
for which Janet would have worshipped her.

"Aw, now, Jarge, pleas