Rosie looked at her friend compassionately. "Why don't you stay here for supper?" Janet shook her head. "I'd like to but I don't think I'd better. He probably won't come home, but he might come and I better be on hand." Janet started off slowly and reluctantly. Twice she turned back a face so woebegone and desolate that it went to Rosie's heart and, after a few moments, sent her flying for comfort to her mother's ample bosom. Mrs. O'Brien gathered her in as if were the most natural thing in the world. "What is it, Rosie darlint? What's troublin' you?" "Ma," she sobbed, "you're well, aren't you?" "Me, Rosie dear, am I well, do you say?" Mrs. O'Brien looked into Rosie's tearful eyes in astonishment. "Yes, Ma, you! I want you to be well--always--all the time! You see, Ma, Janet's poor mother----" "Ah, and is it that that's troublin' you?" Mrs. O'Brien crooned, rocking Rosie from side to side as though she were Geraldine. "Don't you be worryin' your little head about your poor ma. I'm fine and well, thank God, and your poor da is well, and Terry's well, and Jackie's well, and poor wee Geraldine is well, and dear Ellen's well, and we're all----" "Ellen!" snorted Rosie, her tears abruptly ceasing to flow and her body drawing itself away from her mother's embrace. "Dear Ellen's well, too," Mrs. O'Brien in all innocence repeated. "Oh, I know she's well all right!" Rosie declared in tones which even her mother recognised as sarcastic. "Why, Rosie," Mrs. O'Brien began, "I'm surprised----" But Rosie, without waiting to hear the end of her mother's reproach, marched resolutely off with all the dignity of a high chin and a stiff military gait. CHAPTER XXIX THE CASE OF DAVE McFADDEN Promptly at eight o'clock Rosie reached the tenement where the McFaddens lived. Janet was on the front steps waiting for her. "Shall we sit out here awhile?" Janet said, making place for Rosie beside herself. Rosie hesitated a moment. "Is your father home?" "Yes. He came in an hour ago. I got him off to bed as soon as I could. He's asleep now." "Are--are you sure he won't wake up and make trouble?" Janet laughed. "Yes, I'm sure. We won't hear anything from him till morning except snorts and groans. I guess I know." On the steps of the neighbouring tenements there were groups of people laughing, talking, wrangling. The electric street lamps cast great patches of quivering jumping light and heavy masses of deep pulsating shadow. Janet and Rosie, seated alone, were near enough their neighbours not to feel cut off from the outside world and yet, in the seclusion of a dark shadow, far enough away to talk freely on the subject uppermost in their thoughts.