She was roused from her unpleasant reverie by a timid little touch on her shoulder. Turning, she saw Una Meredith.
“Why, Una, dear, did you walk up here in all this heat?”
“Yes,” said Una, “I came to—I came to—”
But she found it very hard to say what she had come to do. Her voice failed—her eyes filled with tears.
“Why, Una, little girl, what is the trouble? Don’t be afraid to tell me.”
Rosemary put her arm around the thin little form and drew the child close to her. Her eyes were very beautiful—her touch so tender that Una found courage.