for their feelings. It was quite as though she conscientiously believed
that the rest of the O'Briens had been placed in this world for the sole
purpose of adding to her comfort and convenience. It always surprised
her, often it bored her, sometimes it even grieved her that they did not
share this view. It seemed to her nothing less than stupidity on their
part not to.

So, despite her mother's promises, despite George Riley's hopes, Rosie
knew perfectly well that her savings would never be refunded. They were
gone and that was to be the end of them. Thanks to kind George Riley,
Rosie had weathered the first storm of disappointment and had learned
that, notwithstanding a selfish unscrupulous sister, life was still
worth living. Neither then nor later did she definitely forgive Ellen
the theft--how could she forgive when Ellen, apparently, was conscious
of no guilt?--but she tried resolutely not to spend her time in vain
regrets and useless complainings. The days passed and life, like the
great river that it is, flowed over the little tragedy and soon covered
it from sight.

The school year slowly drew to a close and at last Mrs. O'Brien felt
free to make a request about which she had been throwing out vague hints
for some time.

[Illustration: "Here, baby darlint, go to sister Rosie."]

"Rosie dear," she began with an imploring smile, "now that vacation's
come and you don't have to go back any more to school, won't you, like a
good child, help your poor ma and take care of your little sister
Geraldine? Here, baby darlint, go to sister Rosie."

Mrs. O'Brien held out the baby, but Rosie backed resolutely away.

"Now see here, Ma, you just needn't begin on that, because I won't. I
guess I do enough in this house without taking care of Geraldine: I wash
all the dishes, and that old Ellen O'Brien hardly ever even wipes them;
and I do the outside scrubbing; and I go to the grocery for you six
times a day; and I help with the cooking, too; and I always carry up
Jarge's supper to the cars; and I take care of Jackie. Besides all that,
I got my paper route. I guess that's enough for any one person."

Mrs. O'Brien conceded this readily enough. "Of course it is, Rosie dear,
and I'm not sayin' it ain't. You're a great worker, and a fine little
manager, too. I used to be a manager meself, but after ye've been the
mother of eight, and three of them dead and gone--God rest their
souls!--things kind o' slip away from you, do ye