The Detroit tribune. (Detroit, Mich.) 1935-1966, 1936-02-01
IN
BRONZE
CHAPTER Ten
By Alma Bean Loving

Nhht II In hN
Each afternoon found DR.. Nc
Claren at the hospital. Agnes had
learned TO listen for his deep, firm
tread, his rich voiced greeting. His
solicitude for Juniors welfare. Not
even the smallest thing that might
aid in his fight was left undone
The room was a bower of flowers,
and this morning a gorgeous box
of deep red roses had been left by
the florist. But these were not for
Junior. over and over she had read
the accompanying card, Let the
flowers tell the story
Her eyes misted with happiness.
Could it be possible that he was IN
love with her? Then she would
push the thought aside as foolish
for her years. Who was she TO
aspire so high? Why should he
even think of one so lowly in the
social scale, when he could choose
the highest in the land? Agnes
tried to reason with thes impractl-
cal thoughts. She was too old for
such nonsense. 1t was all right
for young moderns like Monte.
Hers was a life of service, and so
she soliloquized,
Junior was gaining slowly. His
internal injuries were not as serl-
Gus las at first supposed and now
he was beginning to take notice OF
his surroundings, always favor
able sign.
Agnes sat by his bed talking
softly. His large eyes were gazing
intently at the many vases Oh
flowers.
Like the pretty flowers, Jun
ior?"
Yes" he whispered.
Agnes was delighted. 1t was the
first conscious word he had uttered
since the accident.
Sharp, quick running footsteps
could be heard coming down the
corridor, the door opened and the
freckled face of little Terry O'Shea
neeped in the door, followed by
Benny Winegarden and Erick Lar
son.
Shy and awkward they eased to-
ward Juniors bedside as Agnes
made way for the visitors.
Come on Benny and speak to
Junior" she said kindly, For he
has been quite sick"
Benny came closer to his play
mate. his brown eyes full of con-
Germ.
Junior. l brought you some
fruit" and he held up an immense
bag.
Terry OShea was carrying lit
tie bunch of wilted flowers. lie
appeared a bit disconnected when
he saw the gorgeous array of flow
ers adjoining the table and dresser.
"Look Junior" and Erick un-
wrapped ball, Look, its just ike
the one I had that you" he hesl-
tated as if afraid to mention the
ball game that came near TO end
ing so disastrously for his play
mate.
Too weak to join in the CONVEX
sation, Junior lay there, a wan
smile showing his joy over seeing
his little friends. They told Junior
the news of many ball games ana
asked him when he would be home
to play tag with them. Agnes an
swered for Junior.
Junior will be home soon," and
as he showed signs of weariness'
"But he must rest to get well ana
rest means lots of sleep.
They seemed to understand ana
turned to leave saying they would
he back again. AS their footsteps
died away Junior spoke drowsily.
81 like Benny
Don't you like Erick and Ter
ry too"
yes" hardly more than
whisper.
Agnes understood what his lin
tied childish vocabulary could not
express He likes Benny best, for
Benny had acted as buffer many
times for Junior.
Junior then fell into a restful
sleep. Agnes smoothed his pillows,
turned his little body into more
comfortable position and busted
herself around the room, humming
softly under her breath. She ar
ranged and re-arranged the flow
ers. AS she touched the roses her
hands rembled and a blush cover
ed her face. Shelburied her face in
their deWy fteshmess.
To DIR. McClaren, just entering,
she made a never forgotten picture
in her snowy white uniform, her
black hair glistening against the
deep red roses,
Agnes moved away swiftly. She
felt foolish. Suppose he bought she
was posing for his benefit Her
greeting was a rifle cool.
DR.. McClaren sensed this cool
ness. Was she angry at his bold
ness? Maybe he was mistaken in
thinking she was interested in him
Why should one so lovely listen to