Rose O'Paradise

So suddenly had the two strong, friendly forces been swept from Jinnie's daily life that as yet she had not the power to think with precision. Lafe she had had every day for almost three years, and Theodore King--oh, how she loved him! Rumors were afloat that no power could save Lafe--her dear, brave cobbler.

Day by day the girl's faith increased, and of late she had uttered silent prayers that she might be allowed to see Theodore.

One morning she was in the kitchen rocking little Lafe when Peggy called her.

"There's some one to see you," said she.

Jinnie gave the mother her baby and went to the shop door. A man in a white suit smiled down upon her.

"I'm from the hospital," said he. "Mr. King would like to see you this morning."

Jinnie's heart seemed to climb into her throat.

"Mr. Theodore King?" she murmured.

"Yes," said the young man. "I've got a car here. Will you come?"

"Of course! Wait till I get my hat."

Once at their destination, they tiptoed into Theodore's room noiselessly, and as Jinnie stood over the bed, looking down upon him, she suffered keenly, he looked so deathlike; but she resolutely controlled her feelings. When Theodore glanced at her, she forced herself to smile, and the sight of the lovely girl refreshed the sick man, giving him a new impetus to recover.

He smiled back, endeavoring not to show his weakness.

"You see I'm getting well," he whispered.

Jinnie nodded. She wasn't sure whether he was or not. How her heart ached to do something for him!

One of his long, thin hands lay over the coverlet, and Jinnie wanted to kiss it. Tears were standing thick on her lashes.

The doctor stood beside her, consulting his watch.

"If you wish to speak, Mr. King," he said kindly, "you must do so quickly, for the young lady can stay but two minutes more. That's all!"

The doctor turned his back upon them, watch in hand.

"Kiss me, dear!" murmured Theodore.

Oblivious of the doctor's presence, Jinnie stooped and kissed him twice, taking the thin hand he extended.

"I sent for you because I feared you'd go to work at the wood again."

Jinnie would reassure him on this point even by an untruth, for she might be driven, for the sake of Peggy and the children, to go back into that hated occupation.

"I promise I won't," she said.

"Are you still taking lessons?"

Jinnie shook her head.

"I couldn't when you were sick. I just couldn't."

"But you must; you must go to-morrow. I have something here for you," he said, reaching under the pillow with his free hand.