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Anything was better than making Larry suffer, making all the Holidays suffer through him. Oh why hadn't she died, why hadn't she? But in her heart Ruth knew she did not want to die. She wanted to live. She wanted life and love and happiness and Larry Holiday. And then Tony stood on the threshold, smiling friendly encouragement. "Ready, hon? Oh, you look sweet! That blue is lovely for you.
She had expected to see a boy two or three years older than Will, but still a boy, not a polite and self-possessed young man, who by his way of speaking to her made her feel a very little girl indeed. "How have you been improving the shining hours, my lad?" was his greeting to Ernest. "He has been down on the shore collecting shells for Ruth," said Julia mischievously.
I never have any secrets from Ruth, and don't you have any either. Ruth couldn't be anything but kind to you and she never misunderstands, and she is so helpful. Here she is. Ruth, dear, we were just waiting for you. Corinne is nervous and depressed, and imagines all sorts of things, one of which is that we don't care for her: and I've just told her that we do?"
Ulrich and Ruth brought up the rear, saying little to each other. At first the path ascended again, then led down to the valley. It had stopped snowing long before, and the farther they went the lighter the drifts became. They had journeyed in this way for two hours, when Ruth's strength failed, and she stood still with tearful, imploring eyes.
"I don't want credit," lied Ruth; "all I want is our class's good." "Yes, I know. Well, here is my present trouble. You know, every single class since the foundation of the school has succeeded in holding their meeting in spite of the sophomores' attempt at interference. Why can't we break the spell? What could we possibly do?"
True to the promise these ladies had made, she appeared regularly at Kindergarten in the charge of her faithful squire, the Major, whose own interest in the daily work had never flagged since the day he first agreed to help Miss Stannard. It was with surprise, therefore, that, late in November, Miss Ruth noted the absence of the two for several successive days.
Aunt Clarkson's last remark came loud and clear: "We shall cure that at Summerford, Dr Short. We're not dull people there, and we've no time for fancies." She smiled, the doctor smiled, they shook hands and both soon went away. Ruth leant her head on her hand. Was there no one who would understand how much she wanted to see the kitchen cat? Would they all talk about fancies?
There had been a long letter from the Judge. It said Ruth and he were home again after a wonderful trip over the Northern Pacific road. He wrote with enthusiasm of the country and its opportunities, and of the big cities they had visited on their return from the Pacific coast. Every word was alive, the magnitude and stir of traffic and wrestling humanity seemed to rustle the paper.
Sometimes on Sunday evening she used to go with Ruth and the children to see Mrs Owen, who, although she was not ill enough to stay in bed, seldom went out of the house. She had never really recovered from the attack of illness which was brought on by her work at the boarding house. The doctor had been to see her once or twice and had prescribed rest.
"At least," thought Ruth, "I can keep in sight of him for a time. Perhaps he couldn't tell us, anyway, where Queen Zelaya has hidden herself. But I believe he knows, and I haven't much faith in the results those detectives get." Roberto mended rapidly. He was soon up and about the ward, when the girls called.
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