aintive, "Aw, now, Rosie!" as she turned from him.

No! Without doubt all that should ever again pass between them was,
"Good-morning" or "Good-evening." And it was all right that it should be
so. She wouldn't have it otherwise if she could. She told herself this
as she walked home, repeating it so often that she quite persuaded
herself of its truth. Yet, when Terry happened upon her unexpectedly a
few moments later, he looked at her in surprise.

"What's the matter, Rosie? What you cryin' about?"

"N-nuthin'," Rosie quavered. "I--I guess I'm worried about Geraldine."

"Aw, don't you worry about Geraldine," Terry advised kindly. "This
weather's got to break soon and then Geraldine'll be all right."

CHAPTER XXI

THE STORM

Terry was right. The change came the very next afternoon. Rosie had
finished her papers and was on her way home when suddenly the wind rose
and great masses of black storm-clouds came driving across the sky.
Thunder rumbled, lightning crackled, and in a few minutes rain came
swishing down in great long, splashy drops.

Instead of running for shelter, Rosie obeyed the impulse of the moment
and stood where she was. She clutched a lamp-post to keep from being
blown away, and then, turning her face to the sky, let the sweet,
comforting rain wash down upon her and soak her through and through.

It was like a great, cool, refreshing shower-bath: it washed the dusty
earth clean once again; it brought back a crispness to the air; it
loosened the nervous tension under which all living things had been
straining for days.

The clouds broke as suddenly, almost, as they had gathered. Watching
them, Rosie sighed and shivered. "Oh, but that was nice!" Her hair was
plastered over her head in loose, wet little ringlets, and her clothes
hung tightly about her body. When she walked, her old shoes oozed and
gurgled with water. She hurried home; yes, actually hurried, for it was
cool enough to hurry; and besides, her wet clothes were beginning to
chill her.

Janet McFadden met her with shining eyes. "Oh, Rosie, what do you think?
She's asleep! And she's just took her bottle, too--all of it, without
waking up! Oh, I'm so happy!"

Rosie looked at Janet affectionately. "You've been awful good, Janet,
helping me this way."

"Good--nuthin'!" Janet scoffed. "Aren't you paying me good money?...
But, Rosie, listen here about Geraldine: I wouldn't be a bit surprised
if things'd be all right now. Those old t