Dawn O’Hara THE GIRL WHO LAUGHED By Edna Ferber TO MY DEAR MOTHER WHO FREQUENTLY INTERRUPTS AND TO MY SISTER FANNIE WHO SAYS “SH-SH-SH!” OUTSIDE MY DOOR CONTENTS CHAPTER I. THE SMASH-UP CHAPTER II. MOSTLY EGGS CHAPTER III. GOOD AS NEW CHAPTER IV. DAWN DEVELOPS A HEIMWEH CHAPTER V. THE ABSURD BECOMES SERIOUS CHAPTER VI. STEEPED IN GERMAN CHAPTER VII. BLACKIE’S PHILOSOPHY CHAPTER VIII. KAFFEE AND KAFFEEKUCHEN CHAPTER IX. THE LADY FROM VIENNA CHAPTER X. A TRAGEDY OF GOWNS CHAPTER XI. VON GERHARD SPEAKS CHAPTER XII. BENNIE THE CONSOLER CHAPTER XIII. THE TEST CHAPTER XIV. BENNIE AND THE CHARMING OLD MAID CHAPTER XV. FAREWELL TO KNAPFS CHAPTER XVI. JUNE MOONLIGHT, AND A NEW BOARDINGHOUSE CHAPTER XVII. THE SHADOW OF TERROR CHAPTER XVIII. PETER ORME CHAPTER XIX. A TURN OF THE WHEEL CHAPTER XX. BLACKIE’S VACATION COMES CHAPTER XXI. HAPPINESS DAWN O’HARA CHAPTER I. THE SMASH-UP There are a number of things that are pleasanter than being sick in a New York boarding-house when one’s nearest dearest is a married sister up in far-away Michigan. Some one must have been very kind, for there were doctors, and a blue-and-white striped nurse, and bottles and things. There was even a vase of perky carnations—scarlet ones. I discovered that they had a trick of nodding their heads, saucily. The discovery did not appear to surprise me. “Howdy-do!” said I aloud to the fattest and reddest carnation that overtopped all the rest. “How in the world did you get in here?” The striped nurse (I hadn’t noticed her before) rose from some corner and came swiftly over to my bedside, taking my wrist between her fingers. “I’m very well, thank you,” she said, smiling, “and I came in at the door, of course.” “I wasn’t talking to you,” I snapped, crossly, “I was speaking to the carnations; particularly to that elderly one at the top—the fat one who keeps bowing and wagging his head at me.” “Oh, yes,” answered the striped nurse, politely, “of course. That one is very lively, isn’t he? But suppose we take them out for a little while now.” She picked up the vase and carried it into the corridor, and the carnations nodded their heads more vigorously than ever over her shoulder. I heard her call softly to some one. The some one answered with a sharp little cry that sounded like, “Conscious!”