Rosetta was a sharp-faced tall thin woman but she turned into a fairy princess in a golden wig, long curls falling over her shoulders, her skin coated with white powder, and dressed in the pink changeable silk skirt which she lifted up and down to simulate rose petals while a violin played “Hearts and Flowers.” Mama came to see her once and sat in the front row of the tent with Marcia. They were very proud to be friends with the artist. Mama said she certainly wished Harry could be home to see this beautiful performance.

Every night at midnight Rosetta’s step was heard on the porch. Their mother sat up waiting for this, reading the Yellow Book or sewing. The children could hear her calling up Aunt Lois earlier in the evening, begging her to come down to go with her to the carnival, but Aunt Lois wouldn’t come and Mama was too shy to go alone at night. She sat on the front porch stoop with Mrs. Friend on the other side of the dividing railing, and watched the carnival lights far down the street. When the merry-go-round in the B&O depot lot played something familiar she and Mrs. Friend would softly sing the words to this distant accompaniment. “Just because you made those goo-goo eyes,” and “Won’t you come home, Bill Bailey,” and “Two Little Girls in Blue.” As soon as Rosetta came in, often with a man, there was excitement downstairs, enough to waken the two older girls who immediately peeked down the floor register. There was a smell of fresh coffee, the subdued rattle of dishes as if it was daylight, and sometimes the voices went on and on far into the night. They could hear their mother laughing sometimes or talking excitedly—always about Harry, Harry, Harry and then Rosetta’s twanging voice with its “darlings,” “honeys” and other pretty pet names she used for everybody. Rosetta was a secret, and nobody was ever to breathe to Papa that there had been a stranger in the house, that shameful thing, “a boarder!”

“I’ll tell him myself sometime when he’s in a good humor,” their mother assured Aunt Lois and Grandma, “but if he hears it from anyone else he’ll just kill me. You know how Harry thinks of his home.”

“You’ll tell him the first thing,” said Aunt Lois. “You tell him everything the minute he sets foot in the house.”

Their mother laughed guiltily.

“I know. I just can’t keep a thing from Harry. And anyhow he sees so many things all over the country, I want him to realize that we’ve got things happening right here at home, too. He’ll be mighty surprised when he finds I know an actress, and I didn’t have to travel on the road to meet her, either.”

The carnival ended Saturday night but Rosetta stayed all day Sunday, too, on Mama’s invitation. Mama mended her rose-petal costume, and Rosetta showed Mama and Mrs. Friend how to shampoo their hair with the white of an egg. The three ladies in their kimonos took pails of water and basins out in the backyard Sunday afternoon and washed each other’s hair, and compared lengths. Rosetta told them stories in a low voice that made Mama laugh and made Mrs. Friend exclaim admiringly, “I don’t see where in the world you pick up such things.” Mrs. Friend, being fair, was given a lemon rinse with the white of egg, and Mama, being brunette, was recommended vinegar. Rosetta herself put peroxide in the water and wrapped her short hair in a towel.