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Helen asked, laughing. "Dear me, Ruthie! Don't you begin to act the Miss Prim please! We'll have no fun at all if you do." "But we don't want to make the bad beginning of getting Mrs. Tellingham and the teachers down on us right at the start," said Ruth, in a worried manner. "I don't know but that you are a Miss Prim!" ejaculated Helen.
"I am afraid I cannot do it," Ruth began; but while she was choosing words delicate enough to express her reluctance to act as he wished, he had almost bowed her out of the room; and thinking that she was modest in her estimate of her qualifications for remonstrating with his daughter, he added, blandly, "No one so able, Mrs Denbigh.
Agnes promised to do what she could, and then timidly, but earnestly, reminded her of the sure help in the time of trouble, the one whose friendship and love are equal to all our demands. By the time she reached home, Ruth was becoming anxious, for when Agnes intended going anywhere after school, she always announced it before leaving in the morning.
And going to the door with her, she met grandfather and the cane coming in. There was time enough for Mrs. Holabird to pull down the blinds, and for Ruth to take a long, thinking look out from under hers, through the sash of window left unshaded; for old Mr. Holabird and his cane were slow; the more awful for that.
But for a moment a strange look of distance dwelt in Ruth's eyes, and she said: "I wonder what I can do with the winter stars we've found? Will Ninety-second Street be big enough for them?" For a week the week before Christmas Carl had seen neither Ruth nor Gertie; but of the office he had seen too much. They were "rushing work" on the Touricar to have it on the market early in 1913.
But swear it to your soul," said the girl in a low, tense whisper; "swear that you will never, sleeping or waking, laughing or crying, in joy or in sorrow, let woman or man know that you heard. Swear it. And while you swear, remember." She drew Ruth close to her and almost hissed into her ear: "Remember You love Jeffrey Whiting!" She dropped Ruth's arm and turned quickly away.
The wind from across the river was tearing through the summer-house at a sixty-mile-an-hour speed. "Oh! It's gone!" Ruth cried, and had Tom not caught her she would have dropped to the ground. There was not a scrap of paper left upon the table, nor anywhere in the place. Even the two fat notebooks had disappeared, and, too, the gold-mounted pen the girl of the Red Mill had been using.
Her eyes were faint with tears, in the magic jade light. "I didn't know a kiss could be like that," she marveled, presently. "I wouldn't have believed selfish Ruth could give all of herself." "Yes! It was the whole universe." "Hawk dear, I wasn't experimenting, that time. I'm glad, glad! To know I can really love; not just curiosity!... I've wanted you so all day.
And here is the hero warrior rushing up to her, a smoking revolver in one hand. His usual coolness and sang froid are gone Sir Lionel is actually excited. It is not every day that even a veteran of the Cape wars is given a chance to thus immortalize himself after the manner of Samson. "My dear Lady Ruth, the way is clear. We must fly before the rest of the rascals appear.
His three children were born in America: Margaret, born 1737, died 1810; Alexander, born 1739, was a commissioned officer in the French and Indian War; John, born 1750, died 1805. John Gaston married Ruth Miller, daughter of Reverend Alexander Miller. Their children were Alexander, born in Voluntown, August 2, 1772; Margaret, born December 13, 1781. The latter died in early childhood.
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