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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78887 ***
+
+Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Ruth passed the astonished Ayah.—CHAP. XVIII.]
+
+
+
+                    _[The Arundel Family series]_
+
+
+                        The Doctor's Daughter
+
+
+                                  BY
+
+                            CATHARINE SHAW
+
+   Author of "The Gabled Farm," "Nellie Arundel," "In the Sunlight,"
+                         "At Last," &c., &c.
+
+
+
+                       JOHN F. SHAW & CO., LTD.
+                           3 PILGRIM STREET
+                     LUDGATE HILL, LONDON, E.C.4
+
+
+
+                               CONTENTS
+
+CHAP.
+
+     I. LONELY
+
+    II. ARTHUR ARUNDEL
+
+   III. SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR
+
+    IV. THE LETTER THAT WAS POSTED
+
+     V. A CHAIN
+
+    VI. MARY
+
+   VII. IN THE SUNLIGHT
+
+  VIII. THE BAY WINDOW
+
+    IX. PROUD
+
+     X. THE HARDEST THING
+
+    XI. THE ARRIVAL
+
+   XII. THE LOST LETTER
+
+  XIII. AN ANGRY ELEPHANT
+
+   XIV. A DREAM
+
+    XV. AT RIVERSIDE
+
+   XVI. INVADED
+
+  XVII. AT THE FARM
+
+ XVIII. NORMAN'S SUPPER
+
+   XIX. CONFIDENCES
+
+    XX. A PRESENT
+
+   XXI. ON THE DOORSTEP
+
+  XXII. HOUSEKEEPING
+
+ XXIII. A PARTING
+
+  XXIV. GOOD NEWS
+
+   XXV. DISMAY.
+
+  XXVI. INTERRUPTED
+
+ XXVII. BY THE WINDOW
+
+XXVIII. A SUNSET
+
+  XXIX. MALA
+
+   XXX. DR. BROWN'S PLAN
+
+  XXXI. THE HOUSE IN THE TREES
+
+ XXXII. A LARGE FAMILY
+
+XXXIII. IN THE SHADED ROOM
+
+
+
+                        THE DOCTOR'S DAUGHTER.
+
+                                  ———
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+_LONELY._
+
+"WELL, my dear!" said a quick, rather pleasant voice. "Here you are!"
+
+"Yes, father, always here," answered another voice, as a young girl
+emerged from behind the curtains of the bay window, where she had been
+standing gazing out on the pretty garden. "What a wet day you have had!"
+
+"Pretty well," he answered, as he came forward to the fire, "but I do
+not feel it in the carriage as other folks do who have to trudge along
+in the mud."
+
+"No," she assented, helping him off with his coat and carrying it into
+the hall; "are you ready for your tea, father?"
+
+"I should think 'you' are," he answered, glancing at the clock. "Such
+a list of patients as I have had to-day. I thought I should never get
+through."
+
+"I suppose it is the wet weather," she remarked as she rang the bell.
+"It is wonderfully cold for April!"
+
+Her father sat down in the armchair she had placed for him, and warmed
+his hands in a placid way, looking round on his daughter with contented
+eyes.
+
+"Is Dr. Arundel come, father?"
+
+"Not yet; he arrives this evening. Heigho! I'd sooner have rubbed along
+by myself, I do believe, than to undertake to get someone else into the
+work."
+
+"Oh! But, then, see how the work keeps on increasing, and now we live
+up the hill, it is such a long way from the town. You could not do it
+all."
+
+He smiled a little. "You know best, don't you?" he said fondly. "Here
+is the teapot; pour out a cup, there's a dear; I'm weary."
+
+She handed it to him, pressing him with pretty persuasion to take
+something to eat.
+
+She was a dainty little thing, with wavy hair, small hands and feet,
+and an engaging manner.
+
+He watched her as she moved quickly and noiselessly about, and then he
+sighed.
+
+She turned her head quickly.
+
+"Is the tea not good?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, yes, perfectly. Very nice, my dear."
+
+She sat down by his side, with her own cup in her hand, and looked
+into the fire. She was always disturbed if her father sighed. "I was
+thinking, Ruth, that it was a mistake to have come up here to live; I
+wish we had not."
+
+"Then we will go to the town again," she answered decidedly; "it is
+nothing to move."
+
+"Nothing!" he responded. "That is all you know!"
+
+"Why do you regret it, particularly?" asked Ruth.
+
+"I came up here for your mother's sake, and after all, it did not save
+her. Nothing could, as far as that went; but I wish I had not moved
+from the town."
+
+There was an instant's pause.
+
+"Oh, well!" she said brightly. "We can think it over. I like being at
+The Firs ten times as much as in the old frowsy town, but if you do
+not, we'll go back there. I love the dear old house! See, your tea is
+getting cold; let me give you another cup. Perhaps Dr. Arundel's coming
+will make ever so much difference."
+
+"I should not wonder." Then there was another sigh, and after a moment
+he asked, "Let me see, how old are you, Ruth?"
+
+"I am seventeen—" she hesitated an instant—"to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow!" he exclaimed, rousing himself. "Why did no one tell me, or
+remind me?" Then, with the heaviest sigh he had yet given, he went on,
+"It was your mother who always thought of these things."
+
+Ruth had privately wondered if he would remember. He was so clever in
+all outside things. But as long as she was cheerful, and in her place
+to welcome him, he seemed to think very little about her, or so she
+thought.
+
+Perhaps she was mistaken. But sometimes when she had finished a long
+day of pretty ministry to him, and was shut up in her own room at
+night, she would lay her head in her mother's chair and cry bitterly
+for the want of she knew not what. Whether it was the lack of
+mother-love or sympathy, or simple desolateness, she could not tell.
+
+"What would you like me to give you, my dear?" asked her father,
+turning round abruptly.
+
+And Ruth's thoughts came back to the present.
+
+"I do not know, father," she answered colouring. "Anything you like—or
+nothing—"
+
+"That is likely, is it not, my precious?" he said fondly. "Well, I
+must 'cudgel my brains,' as people say; girls are curious creatures. I
+expect you will have to help me?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+_ARTHUR ARUNDEL._
+
+AFTERNOON tea was scarcely over when the telephone bell was heard. And
+in a few moments, the parlourmaid came in to say the doctor was wanted
+at once.
+
+"Oh, dear!" said Ruth. "I did hope you would have had a little peace!
+However, that's the way, isn't it? There's James with the carriage; I
+expect he and Dobbin have had a cup of tea, too!"
+
+She laughed merrily, and her father, with a hasty kiss, hurried off,
+and she was again alone.
+
+Presently, after a slight knock, a pleasant elderly person entered and
+came forward.
+
+"I thought you must be lonely this wet afternoon, Miss Ruth, so I came
+to see if I could do anything for you."
+
+"No, Morris, I do not think I am. I was just going to practise my
+violin."
+
+"Master has been down on his way out to ask me what you would like for
+your birthday present, miss. He's really put about that he has nothing
+ready. I told him if he'd excuse my saying so, I expect you would like
+to be consulted better than to have something as a surprise that you
+did not exactly want."
+
+"Yes," said Ruth, looking up, "that is just what I do feel; but I do
+not know what my father would like to spend upon it! Do sit down,
+Morris. Will it be too cold for you with this window open? It has
+almost left off raining. But see, I will shut it. Can you spare time to
+have a chat?"
+
+The housekeeper had intended nothing else. When Ruth had no other
+visitors, she often came up and did her best to pass away some of the
+long, lonely afternoons.
+
+So she sat down by the window and answered comfortably, "Well, Miss
+Ruth, if I might suggest, I think it would be a good plan for the
+master to tell you what he thought of spending, and then for you and me
+to go to Worcester to-morrow to buy it."
+
+Ruth smiled. "All right," she said: "that would be lovely. But you must
+tell him, Morris, because if I did—well, it would seem like asking him
+for a present, would it not?"
+
+It was long past seven before the wheels were heard again, and the
+carriage came up the drive. Dinner had been kept back, and Ruth had sat
+with her fancy work, waiting and wondering.
+
+To her astonishment, she heard two voices in the hall, and a great
+bustle of hanging up coats. Then her father threw open the drawing-room
+door, and said cheerfully, "Dr. Arundel, my dear! Dr. 'Arthur' Arundel,
+as he likes to be called. I have brought him to stay with us. I thought
+it was dull for him in a new place this first evening."
+
+Ruth shook hands, and privately hoped Morris would have arranged enough
+dinner for three, and that the room was ready.
+
+It came out that her father had driven to meet his new partner at the
+junction, and thinking it would be but lonely in lodgings that first
+evening, he had decided to get to know him at once. Ruth was accustomed
+to chance guests, and took it all calmly, listening to the conversation
+very quietly, but following it with interest, her bright eyes sparkling
+at anything that amused her, while her father said a word now and then
+in a fond, teasing way to include her, but otherwise was absorbed in
+his guest and his politics.
+
+When dinner was over, Dr. Brown turned to her. "You have your German
+to prepare, my dear, I expect. We will join you in the drawing-room
+presently."
+
+Ruth made her escape, and sat down by her little table, and tried to
+busy herself with her preparation, but she found it hard work. She
+forgot for a moment about the new partner, and her thoughts flew to her
+birthday to-morrow, and of this time last year, when she had not been
+motherless.
+
+It seemed like a dream. She wondered if she had done everything she
+could to make home happy for her father. Had she done all she could?
+Morris thought she had, but then Morris could not know how often her
+father gave those weary sighs. Besides, Morris thought "religion" could
+ease every care under the sun, and Ruth did not see that; she could
+not understand it. Her father and she did very well without it, she
+thought. And even if her mother had been influenced by Morris to think
+of such things, why, of course, invalids always must, and that was only
+natural.
+
+She did not know that Morris would have been shocked if she had been
+told that in Ruth's thoughts what was her joy and comfort could be
+called "religion!"
+
+"It's just having Christ in your heart and in your life," she would say
+to herself, as she sat in her sitting-room downstairs, "and I can but
+pray that they may understand it for themselves; for it is eternal life
+to them that know Him!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+_"SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR."_
+
+DR. BROWN and his guest came to the drawing-room for a cup of coffee,
+but quickly went back to the library to talk over "the practice," and
+Ruth was alone once more.
+
+Were all her days to pass thus? A music or German lesson in the
+morning, a few odd callers in the afternoon varied by an occasional
+cycle ride with an old schoolfellow, then back to be ready for her
+father's cup of tea, then violin practice till it was time to dress
+for dinner. After which, if her father were at home, she would listen
+to his paper, or hear his news of his patients. But if he were out, a
+long, dreary solitude, with nothing to relieve it.
+
+When the library door shut, Ruth's first impulse was to lean back in
+her chair and enjoy her own thoughts. But she was an energetic girl,
+and she shook off her dreaminess and turned to the piano, choosing a
+difficult sonata that would be real hard work.
+
+An hour passed thus, and then she heard Dr. Arundel go out at the front
+door, and she went to the library at once to find her father.
+
+"Well, little girl," he said briskly, "I think I shall get on with
+him. Now we will go and have half an hour's music. I have heard you
+practising."
+
+"But, father, I thought he was going to stay the night here!"
+
+"So he is. But he has taken some lodgings for a week, and he has had to
+go back to tell them he will not be there to-night."
+
+"Taken them for a week! How did he know of them?"
+
+"Well, my dear, I did not ask him that. I suppose he knew someone here;
+he did not say. Now, if you have done questioning me, can I have some
+music?"
+
+"Oh, I have not heard anything yet! Do tell me—"
+
+"Eh? There is nothing special to tell you. He is very nice, and much
+more friendly than I expected."
+
+"Yes—but 'is' he married? Did you find that out?"
+
+"Married? Yes, I told you so. I thought when I saw him in Northampton
+he said so. He has taken these lodgings here that he may look round,
+and then his wife will come, and they will choose a house together."
+
+"Oh, I see! Well, I'm glad. I wonder what she will be like?"
+
+"He speaks very highly of her. She was a Miss Linthorpe. Do you not
+remember that my cousin, Mr. Brown, of Grange Park, married one of
+those girls? Very nice people, I believe."
+
+"Oh, I know! Alice—that was the name of the one who married Mr. Brown.
+I have heard ever so much about them. Is this one young or old?" asked
+Ruth eagerly.
+
+"Young, I should think. It seems he had fixed his heart on her years
+ago."
+
+"Now, that is nice," said Ruth enthusiastically. "I shall like them, I
+do believe."
+
+"May I have my music now?" he asked, smiling a little.
+
+"Oh, yes! But you cannot wonder that I wanted to know about Dr. Arundel
+and his wife! Why, father, to have a friend will be something to live
+for!"
+
+"Something to live for?" Dr. Brown looked at her anxiously for a moment.
+
+Was her life too cramped and dull up here at The Firs? Was he keeping
+his treasure to himself to her detriment?
+
+That must be thought of in those long hours when she was gone to bed,
+and when he generally paced sorrowfully up and down his lonely library.
+
+So, putting aside the anxious thoughts till another time, he said
+cheerfully: "By the bye, Morris says I am to tell you what I am going
+to spend, and she thinks you would like to get your birthday present
+yourself. That's a good idea. Let's see. Would this get anything you
+want?"
+
+He fished in his pocket, and laid two sovereigns in her palm.
+
+"Oh, father!" said Ruth, colouring. "Not all that!"
+
+"Too much, is it? Then put some in the bank. No, I'm not going to take
+it back. Cannot you think of anything you want?"
+
+"Oh, I never thought of so much as this," exclaimed Ruth, "but I do
+want—only I am afraid it seems grasping of me—but I think this would
+buy a little silver watch! My old one is quite worn out. Would it,
+father?"
+
+"I really do not know. You and Morris find out at Worcester to-morrow.
+And if it will not, I'll tell her she can spend a little more."
+
+"Oh, no," said Ruth. "I feel sure it would."
+
+"That is all right, then. Now play me something soothing, and then you
+shall go to bed. I shall be up for Dr. Arundel."
+
+Ruth kissed and thanked him.
+
+And soon after, she bade him good-night, and went to her room.
+
+There stood Morris waiting for her.
+
+"Look, Morris!" exclaimed Ruth. "Am I not a lucky girl?"
+
+"Very, Miss," smiled Morris; "what a nice treat for us to go to
+Worcester. And to get your present, too!"
+
+For Morris was very anxious that this birthday should be as cheerful as
+possible, for she thought sadly what a change had come over the bright
+prospects of her young lady in that short, and yet long, year.
+
+She often looked in the sweet girlish face and wondered how things
+were prospering within. She had a vague idea that Ruth's life was too
+monotonous and quiet; that the girl wanted something more than to go
+for her occasional lessons in the morning, practice all the afternoon,
+and fill her time with gentle ministrations to her bereaved father. No
+outside life seemed to touch her. Dr. Brown discouraged visitors, and
+Ruth confided to Morris that she found he was more weary and depressed
+after anyone had spent the evening with her than he was when they two
+sat together quietly.
+
+Ruth was busily thinking her own thoughts, and she burst out with
+unusual eagerness:—
+
+"And what do you think, Morris? Dr. Arundel 'is' married, and his wife
+is one of those Miss Linthorpes that live near father's cousin, Mr.
+Brown! Don't you remember he married one of them?"
+
+"Oh, I know! The one that lost his two sons on the ice. Well, to be
+sure!"
+
+"Yes, and Dr. Arundel is going to telegraph for his wife to-morrow, and
+if she is nice, I shall have a friend!"
+
+"I hope she will be, miss; you must not be in too great a hurry,"
+smiled the housekeeper.
+
+"No—but, Morris, I can't tell how lonely I am. I do hope she will be
+nice, but I feel sure she will!"
+
+Morris had not seen her so animated since the beginning of her mother's
+illness.
+
+And when she left Ruth that night, she saw that her birthday and going
+to Worcester had faded into the background, while the new hope of a
+human friendship had done her all the good in the world.
+
+What would this friend be? wondered the steady old servant, as she made
+her way to her own domain.
+
+"Well, well! The Lord knows," she said to herself, resting her anxiety
+on Him who cared for her: "Old Morris doesn't know everything, that's
+certain, and somehow or other He'll see to my young lady for me! I
+haven't prayed for her since the day she was born for nothing! The Lord
+doesn't disappoint His children so!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+_THE LETTER THAT WAS POSTED._
+
+WHEN Ruth went upstairs, Dr. Brown crossed the carpeted hall and shut
+himself in his study. He paced up and down the floor for a long time,
+with his head bent down and his hands clasped behind him.
+
+Presently, he unlocked a drawer and took out a thin, closely written
+letter, and after reading it carefully, he resumed his walk up and down
+again.
+
+Was Ruth lonely? Was he allowing his own desolate feeling to injure the
+child whom he loved so tenderly?
+
+"I'll write," he ejaculated, half aloud; "I'll write this very night!
+My only brother has a great claim on me, and some bright young people
+will do Ruth good! I'll write to-night and make them welcome. I can't
+say it is what I should have chosen, but there is no one to advise me
+now. It will be some young life for Ruth, and, after all, this house is
+very large and empty for two!"
+
+He sat down to his desk and wrote busily for half an hour. Then he
+chose a thin envelope, stamped it with a foreign stamp, and, putting
+on his hat, took it to the post himself, thinking with a grim little
+smile, "Ruth is always coaxing me to go for 'constitutionals,' so now I
+will carry out her wishes!"
+
+Little did the sleeping girl upstairs know that the whole course of her
+life was to be altered by that letter!
+
+
+Dr. Brown managed not to forget the birthday greetings, even though
+he was decidedly full of his new partner, and was discussing possible
+houses with Ruth and Dr. Arundel all breakfast-time.
+
+Dr. Arundel left the moment after, having some letters to write at his
+lodgings.
+
+And Dr. Brown turned to Ruth with, "Well, my dear! He's a nice fellow,
+isn't he?"
+
+"Oh, I like him!" she exclaimed warmly.
+
+Before Dr. Brown went out on his rounds, he had a moment's private
+conversation with Mrs. Morris, which resulted in nods and smiles
+on her part and on his, while he added, "Go to Hickson's; they are
+trustworthy."
+
+"Good-bye, my precious," he said, more cheerily than usual, to his
+daughter as he ran down the steps. "Take care of yourself, and come
+back to your old father as soon as you can!"
+
+"So I will," she answered brightly, "and to-morrow, I shall have a
+friend!"
+
+"Eh?" he asked, pausing with the carriage door in his hand. "Eh?"
+
+"Young Mrs. Arundel—"
+
+"Oh, don't fix your hopes too much," he answered, with the caution of
+experience; "new friends are not always what you expect—"
+
+"But I've heard of those girls—and somehow anybody Mr. Arundel had
+liked so long—"
+
+"Yes, yes! Good-bye; I must go."
+
+
+It was afternoon by the time Ruth and Mrs. Morris had done their
+shopping, and they timed their return so that the carriage should take
+them up on its way home, and thus save them the long walk up the hill
+to The Firs.
+
+They found Dr. Brown seated in it.
+
+And the moment Ruth got in, she exclaimed: "Oh, you dear, naughty
+extravagant father! To think of such a present as this! Oh, I feel as
+if I had asked for more than I ought! 'Did' you think it was nasty of
+me?"
+
+She drew out of her little handbag a morocco case, and on opening it,
+displayed a lovely little gold watch.
+
+"So you like it?" asked her father.
+
+"Like it? Why I can't tell you—"
+
+"Then do not. I thought you and Morris would be able to find something—"
+
+"But fancy your giving her all that money! I shall value it so much."
+
+"Now I suppose the next thing will be a chain?" he said, pretending to
+be grim.
+
+"Oh, no—I can—I can work one, or—"
+
+"I'll see to that. 'I' must go into Worcester now, I suppose, and see
+what I can get."
+
+So they talked on, until Ruth exclaimed suddenly, "What about Dr.
+Arundel?"
+
+"Oh, he's all right. The patients seem pleased with him, and there's
+something so straight about him that I think he will take."
+
+"When is he going to send for Mrs. Arundel?"
+
+"He has sent already. The lodgings seem to be comfortable, and she will
+be down to-morrow, I think."
+
+"Then will he come up to dinner to-night?"
+
+"No; he wants to make the rooms a little bright for her, and has
+ordered in a few things, a plant or two, and so on."
+
+"I wish I could help—"
+
+"Oh, there is nothing much can be done with apartments, but what can
+be, he has done. It will not be for long, you see."
+
+"Did you show him those two houses?"
+
+"Yes, and when she comes, she will choose. He would not even go to see
+them till she came."
+
+"That's nice!"
+
+"You think so? Well, that is evidently what he thinks. Here we are at
+home. Morris, I expect you are tired?"
+
+"Thank you, sir; I've enjoyed myself very much," answered the
+housekeeper, delighted at the brightness of Ruth's face, and that the
+dreaded birthday was passing so happily.
+
+Dr. Brown had a call that evening, so that there was no time to tell
+his daughter of the new plans which filled his thoughts, and of which
+that letter, on its way to India, was the expression. And as he walked
+down to the town so as not to use the carriage again, he had plenty of
+time to think over what he had done.
+
+"After all, I do not think I shall say anything about it till I hear
+from my brother George; it is not worth while," he thought. "George
+may not be willing to part with them after all, and if he does not, it
+would be a pity to raise Ruth's hopes. I wonder if she will like it?"
+He paused a moment, almost with a start. But he was accustomed to think
+that whatever he liked, Ruth would like, and wondering within himself
+that he could have had a momentary misgiving, he dismissed it, and went
+on with his soliloquy.
+
+"It will be very nice for her to have companions, and they are near
+enough her own age, too. There's Heston, the eldest boy; he's fifteen.
+He'll have to go to school at Worcester, and come back for week-ends.
+Then there's Judith; she's twelve, he says. And there is little
+Norman; he's eight. Heigho! It's a pretty great care! But George is in
+ill-health, and he is anxious about these children, and I am afraid he
+does not expect to get better. I'd like to do anything I could for him,
+poor fellow!"
+
+"So Ruth is seventeen to-day! She is getting quite a little woman! But,
+really, she's not much more than a child! No—she has a year or two yet
+before her."
+
+He strode on. He almost began to wish he had not posted that letter
+without asking Ruth what she thought of it. But it was gone, and now
+there was nothing but to wait.
+
+"Dr. Arundel will take these evening calls for me by and by," he went
+on to himself, "and I am sure he will be liked. How kindly he sat down
+this morning by that young man. And while we were talking about the
+case, I saw him soothing the man's pain by passing his hand up and
+down his spine as he lay there. I wondered what made the poor fellow's
+face change, and a look of relief come into it. Dr. Arundel had no
+need to do it, and yet—yes, that was a bit of his character that came
+out unexpectedly. If I do not mistake, he will not let anyone have any
+suffering that he can relieve! But I greatly fear he is—rather too
+religious!"
+
+But Dr. Brown had come to his patient's, and went in from the darkness
+to try to relieve another case of suffering.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+_A CHAIN._
+
+MEANTIME, Ruth was once more alone, and as her father had gone out
+directly he had swallowed his dinner, she knew she must settle herself
+for a long, lonely evening. She made up the fire and sat down on the
+skin rug, resting her elbow against a soft armchair in her favourite
+position. If it had not been that her mind was full of her father's
+partner, and where he would live, and what his young wife would be
+like, her thoughts would have wandered sorrowfully over her dull,
+cramped life; for unless she was rousing herself to be cheery with her
+father, there was ever present with her a certain undefined feeling
+that it was hard of him to frown upon all her friends, and to think
+that she could do very well without them.
+
+But to-night her little ticking watch, her change of scene at
+Worcester, her anticipations of an outside interest, and her hopes of
+a friend made her quite happy. And she sat there dreaming of what she
+would do, and how she would plan, till her head sank on her arm and her
+day-dreams lost themselves in a real sleep.
+
+"Hullo! All in the dark!" said Dr. Brown's voice. "Where are you Ruth?
+Ring for the lights, my dear. Why, I've something to show you!"
+
+Ruth sprang up, and soon there was a blaze of light, and the maid
+brought tea.
+
+"I'm so sorry," she said. "I got thinking, and fell asleep, I believe."
+
+"I believe you did! Well, there is a man waiting in the servants' hall
+who has an interesting parcel under his arm!"
+
+Ruth looked amazed. What could her father mean?
+
+"And if he is to catch the last train back, we must release him.
+I determined I would not be 'done,' even if I had forgotten your
+birthday!"
+
+"But you had not! See here?"
+
+"Tell him to walk up," said Dr. Brown.
+
+So the young man came in, and the parcel was opened on the ottoman, and
+its contents spread out before Ruth's astonished eyes.
+
+"I thought I should not be in Worcester for a long time, so I
+telephoned to Hickson to send me over some chains, and here they are!
+You can choose the one that pleases you best, for I told Hickson they
+were all to be within the price I named."
+
+"Oh, father! But may Morris come up? I should like her to help me
+choose. She was so kind over my watch."
+
+"Certainly."
+
+So Morris was sent for, and a happy three bent over the glittering
+cases, while Ruth, satisfied that she might suit her taste without any
+fear of being what she called "grasping," chose the very chain of all
+others that she had wished to possess—a long, delicate one which she
+assured her father would keep her dear watch much safer than one that
+would let it fall out of her belt.
+
+"If you are pleased, I am!" he said, and took the man into the library
+to settle the bill, while Morris stood by with beaming smiles.
+
+"When master sets at a thing, he does it quickly, doesn't he, Miss
+Ruth?" she said. "To think of his having telephoned for them."
+
+"Indeed he does! Has the young man had any supper?"
+
+"Oh, I've seen to that while he was waiting for master. And he was
+grateful, for he had had nothing since midday. He missed the train
+through a mistake, or he would have been here at seven."
+
+So ended Ruth's birthday; for as soon as her father had taken his tea,
+she wished him good-night and went up to her room.
+
+There she found Morris making up the fire.
+
+"Oh, Morris! How kind of you! Did Jane forget it?"
+
+"No, miss; she was just coming up, but I said I would come as it is
+your birthday."
+
+Ruth stood looking into the fire for a moment in silence, and Morris
+turned over her pretty presents thoughtfully.
+
+"You have been very kind to me to-day, Morris, and I appreciate it.
+I've had a very nice birthday."
+
+"I'm so glad, my dear," said Morris, in her comfortable voice.
+
+But as she kissed her dear young lady and went downstairs, she said to
+herself, "Well, well! There's no one but Jesus can comfort her truly;
+and if she will not allow me to say much to her, she cannot hinder me
+from praying. And the Lord can draw her to Him in His own time and way;
+and I believe He will!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+_MARY._
+
+"FATHER!" said Ruth at breakfast the next morning. "I want to go and
+make Mrs. Arundel's acquaintance. What time is she coming?"
+
+Dr. Brown looked up from his paper with some surprise in his eyes.
+
+"To-day?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, to-day!" answered Ruth decidedly. "I am hoping to have a friend
+to-day, father!"
+
+"My dear child, do not be in such a hurry. Wait till you get to know
+her. She may be the sweetest girl in the world (except a certain little
+girl that I love), but then, she may not. Do not be in such a hurry!"
+
+"But I am in a hurry," persisted Ruth, smiling. "If you knew how I have
+longed—at least, if you could understand what I feel, you know—you dear
+old father, you would let 'your duckling swim on the pond'!"
+
+"Well!" he answered good-humouredly. "The old hen, as I conclude you
+consider me, must stand and watch at the edge, I suppose."
+
+"The duckling did not come to any harm, now did it, father?"
+
+"No-o," he said reluctantly, "but the old hen never had it as her own
+afterwards!"
+
+"Oh, you naughty father!" exclaimed Ruth, jumping up and coming round
+to kiss him. "Just as if I should be anything but your own little girl,
+however many friends I had!"
+
+"Yes, yes," he assented rather absently, which Ruth instantly
+perceived, for he was thinking about that letter already on its way in
+the mail steamer to India.
+
+"Then," she said, after a moment's hesitation, "what time is she
+coming? Did you hear?"
+
+"By the four o'clock train from London."
+
+"Then I will go down with you in the carriage and call upon her about
+five. Will you tell Dr. Arundel if you see him?"
+
+"Oh, I shall see him! We shall be about together all the morning."
+
+"Have you told him what a dear old house ours was in the town?"
+
+"Yes; for many reasons that would be the wisest for him to take. But he
+will not express an opinion till his wife has seen it."
+
+"There is that villa on the Worcester road that is very nice and
+modern—I wonder if he will take that?" said Ruth.
+
+Dr. Brown was so astonished at what he called Ruth's "curiosity," that
+he went on reading his paper without answering, to give himself a
+little time to think.
+
+This was Ruth in a new light! Perhaps he had kept her too closely shut
+up. It rather dismayed him.
+
+"There! I will not worry you!" she exclaimed, quickly perceiving his
+troubled look, and jumping up to kiss his puckered forehead. "I shall
+find out all about it myself. You need not fear that I shall be too
+full of 'curiosity' when I see her. That is only for your benefit."
+
+So she relapsed into silence, and soon he finished his breakfast and
+went to his study, where he busied himself with his books, or studied
+his cases, unless a chance patient should come from the country round,
+or make his way up from the town to catch the doctor before he started
+on his rounds.
+
+Ruth meanwhile made a pretence of ordering dinner, which her mother
+had told her it was her duty to do. She generally went to Morris's
+sitting-room, and together they planned the day's doings, set the
+accounts right, and paid the bills. Then she went back to the
+preparation of her German, and at eleven o'clock was ready to start
+in the carriage with her father to take her lesson, walking home in
+time for her solitary lunch. Her father had his in the town at a
+pastry-cook's near his surgery, where now he had a comfortable, quiet
+room and nicely cooked meal ready at one o'clock.
+
+Just outside the town, at one of the houses along the Worcester road,
+Dr. Brown's carriage stopped about five o'clock.
+
+With a nod and smile at her father, Ruth alighted and ran up the flight
+of steps to the door. Her father, as he drove off, did not guess what
+a very pit-a-pat heart was beating beneath that arch, half-audacious
+little look!
+
+And then, Ruth found herself being welcomed by Dr. Arundel with the
+words, "How kind of you to look us up! Mary, this is Miss Brown."
+
+Then, as Mrs. Arundel came forward, he added, "I shall leave you to
+make acquaintance, as I have to meet Dr. Brown at the surgery at five."
+
+He was gone in a moment, and Ruth found herself in the presence of a
+pleasant, rather pretty girl, with frank, dove-like eyes, and gentle,
+straightforward manners.
+
+Whether she thought all that in the one shy glance she gave her, or
+came to the conclusion afterwards, she was not sure. But she told
+Morris when she reached home that she fell in love with her on the spot.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+_IN THE SUNLIGHT._
+
+"SIT down," said Mary, when Dr. Arundel had left them. "How very kind
+of you to come so soon—"
+
+"I hope I am not intruding! But indeed I do want to know you; I have
+been so looking forward to your coming—and—and—I do want a friend so
+badly!"
+
+Mary looked at the young face, at the deep mourning dress, and could
+not withstand the appeal of the glistening eyes.
+
+She bent her taller head, and kissed Ruth gently. "I feel sure we shall
+be friends," she said.
+
+There was a moment's silence, as if both of them were a little
+astonished at the unconventionality of their greeting. Mary found a
+lump in her throat, and Ruth brushed away two tears which had somehow
+got into her eyes.
+
+"You have not seen our rooms, have you?" asked Mary, recovering her
+voice. "I think they are very nice till we get our own house; do not
+you?"
+
+"I was admiring this very much," said Ruth. "How bright Dr. Arundel has
+made it."
+
+"Yes he is very clever at that sort of thing," said his wife, smiling,
+"they all are. He seems to know by intuition what will make people
+comfortable."
+
+"How nice," exclaimed Ruth. "I can well believe it from what my father
+said."
+
+"It is a great gift," said Mrs. Arundel.
+
+"I do hope you will be comfortable—"
+
+"We advertised for rooms in the local paper; my husband thought we
+should enjoy furnishing our house together."
+
+"I think that is a lovely way," said Ruth.
+
+"We have bought most of the furniture in London during our honeymoon,"
+said the bride, blushing; "we have had such a busy fortnight! But it
+was all fun."
+
+"And the things will be sent when you have found a house?"
+
+"Yes—Dr. Arthur has not had time to tell me much, but you will know the
+district and can tell us the advantages and disadvantages."
+
+"Our old house is empty!" said Ruth. "That is in the very middle of the
+town, and is a dear old house, with a nice surgery and old-fashioned
+rooms, and—oh, a lovely garden!"
+
+"A garden!" said Mary, with brightening eyes.
+
+"Yes, you would not think it from the street, but it slopes away
+behind, a narrow piece at first, and then it widens till it is quite
+large, ending with a meadow and the river."
+
+"Oh!" was all Mary could say.
+
+"Yes; my father always has regretted leaving it, but I like being up
+on the hill myself. I love wide views, and the Welsh hills in the
+distance, and the feeling of liberty. Do you know that feeling?"
+
+Ruth paused, blushing at her candid speech. Was she sailing out on the
+pond her father talked of, too suddenly?
+
+But Mary answered thoughtfully—
+
+"I think I know what you mean! But I am not quite sure whether it is
+wise to encourage too much dreaming—"
+
+"Is that dreaming?" asked Ruth, her thoughts on the wide prospect,
+the green fields and hedges, the undulating hills near, the changing
+colours and the blue distances.
+
+"Though I am not 'very' old," said Mary, smiling, "I have thought a
+great deal, and gradually my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ has filled
+all my life with the desire first of all to be His, and to live for
+Him—"
+
+Ruth was silent, but she turned very white. Perhaps she had never
+had such a shock in her life before, as those tender, gently spoken,
+earnest words.
+
+Was this her friend? Was there at the outset a barrier to the
+friendship which she had been so counting on? Her heart sank.
+
+Mary saw the change in her face instantly.
+
+"Dear Ruth, may I call you Ruth? I see you have not thought about this,
+and it shocks you. But it is my greatest joy, and by and bye it will be
+yours, I hope."
+
+Mary got up and kissed her again, a kiss full of something which Ruth
+felt was like a blessing.
+
+"Now come and see my little domain," said Mrs. Arundel brightly. "You
+will excuse the number of boxes, for I have only been here an hour, and
+have not unpacked a thing. There! I have never thanked you for those
+lovely flowers you sent."
+
+"Oh, that is nothing—"
+
+"You and I shall have to 'learn' each other, you know, and I shall have
+to introduce you to my brothers and sisters—Harry and Alice and Flora,
+and Vincent, my twin; and Archie and Rose. My sister Alice is Dr.
+Brown's cousin. Is it not strange? I mean, how circles meet."
+
+"Yes; I expect I have heard more about you than you about me," said
+Ruth, smiling. "Our housekeeper, Mrs. Morris, comes from your part, and
+was there when there was that dreadful accident on the ice—oh, I should
+not have said anything about that!" exclaimed Ruth, stopping short at
+the change in her companion's face.
+
+"Ah!—" said Mary. "I can never think of that day without such a pain at
+my heart as seems to give me a sort of blow."
+
+"I did not know you—?"
+
+"That I had anything to do with it? No, I daresay not. But those
+were the days in which I was living, not 'In the Sunlight' of God's
+love, but 'out of it.' If I had stood up for the right that day, that
+accident might never have happened."
+
+"Oh, I am so sorry I so thoughtlessly alluded to it!"
+
+"No, do not be sorry. We shall be the better friends. For you will see
+in knowing me that I am full of faults—but oh, I do want to please God!"
+
+Just then a carriage was heard drawing up at the door, and Dr. Arundel
+came in to announce to Ruth that her father was waiting for her.
+
+With a hasty, but very warm good-bye, Ruth hurried off. At the door,
+she turned back to Mary for one moment, and said earnestly, "Thank you
+for telling me; I shall never forget your confidence!" And then she was
+gone.
+
+"A nice little girl," said Arthur Arundel.
+
+"A very nice little girl," answered Mary. "Oh, Arthur, I pray to be
+made a blessing to her."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+_THE BAY WINDOW._
+
+"WELL?" asked Dr. Brown, as the carriage rolled swiftly homewards,
+Dobbin as well as the coachman knowing that they had done for the day.
+"Well?"
+
+Ruth knew that question would come, and she was not prepared to answer
+it at the moment.
+
+"Is she all you expected?" he asked, as she did not volunteer any
+answer. He had anticipated a stream of enthusiastic delight, and was
+surprised and almost dismayed.
+
+"She is far more than I expected," said Ruth slowly, as if making up
+her mind as she went along. "Quite different—and nicer in every way
+than I expected—"
+
+"Then you are not disappointed?"
+
+"No, I am not disappointed," said Ruth, "but do you know, father, I can
+hardly tell you yet what I feel. With Mrs. Arundel, you come down to
+the heart of things; you do not just skim the surface."
+
+They relapsed into silence; Dr. Brown because he was so surprised at
+all Ruth said, and Ruth because her mind was full, and she could not
+forget the look of that earnest face, which had seemed like a glimpse
+into a new world.
+
+After dinner, Ruth told her father that Mrs. Arundel had asked her
+to come and show them the old house, and that she had promised to go
+directly after her violin lesson in the morning.
+
+Her father was interested in this, and reminded her of different
+excellencies to be pointed out.
+
+"I wish he would take it," he said, "for numbers of people feel as if
+the practice clung round that house, and if any strange doctor set up
+there, we should lose half the patients, I believe."
+
+"I hope he will," said Ruth, "but these rainy days will not show it
+off."
+
+
+However, the morrow turned out sunny, to Ruth's great joy.
+
+And when she called for Mrs. Arundel, she found her with her hat on
+ready, and Dr. Arundel came in almost directly, and proposed to set out
+at once.
+
+"Have you been over the house in this road?" asked Ruth, a little
+timidly, as they shut the gate behind them.
+
+"Yes, we have already been this morning. It is on the same plan as our
+lodgings," said Mrs. Arundel, "so we could judge pretty well. But we do
+not like that flight of steps up to the door."
+
+"No," answered Ruth, "and Morris says they do take up a servant's time,
+and a doctor has to have them so clean!"
+
+She laughed and blushed. "Please excuse me if I give advice! My father
+says I know everything! He is laughing at me, of course. But indeed I
+do not mean to be interfering!"
+
+"I am quite sure of that," said Dr. Arundel heartily, "and we shall
+be most grateful for any hints. We are young at it, besides being
+strangers here."
+
+They had already turned their steps to the old house, and in a few
+minutes were standing at the familiar door, and Ruth produced her
+father's latchkey.
+
+"Father has kept on this house till he had a partner," she remarked, as
+they stepped into a square hall, which opened flat from the street.
+
+"This is the dining-room," said Ruth, turning to a pleasant room on the
+right. "It is very cheerful at breakfast, because it faces east, and
+people cannot see in much with wide thin curtains. We used to have a
+plant in each window which made a nice shield."
+
+Then she opened a door at the back of the room, and Mary gave an
+exclamation of delight, for the whole of the end of the room they
+entered was filled up with a low bay window opening with French doors
+out to the lawn, which sloped gently away from the house, down and
+down, till it was lost in graceful shrubs and foliage, between which
+could be seen a green meadow and the glittering water of the river.
+
+"How lovely!" Mary exclaimed, turning to her husband. "Oh, Arthur!"
+
+"Does it suit you better than the Worcester Road, Mary? Because, as far
+as we have seen, it suits me."
+
+"Then there is the surgery on that side," pursued Ruth, "and the
+kitchens behind it. I will wait here while you look at the rest of
+it, for you will like to be able to take it all in quietly. My father
+hardly liked my coming, for fear I should be too enthusiastic—"
+
+Dr. Arundel smiled. "I do not mind a little enthusiasm in this workaday
+world. Come, Mary, as Miss Brown wishes it, we will go up 'and take it
+all in' as she suggests."
+
+Ruth sat down on the window seat, and looked out over the
+well-remembered prospect. She had never entered the old home since her
+mother's death, and every corner of the rooms was associated with her
+presence, not as the invalid which she had been at The Firs, but as the
+mother who had been the centre and joy of her father's life, and of
+hers.
+
+And then her mind flew to those brief weeks in which sudden illness had
+come on, and though they had moved to high ground, how all had been
+unavailing. But it was not that which Ruth dwelt on now; somehow the
+sloping garden and the gleaming river had brought back one memorable
+day.
+
+It was about a week before they moved, and Ruth remembered afterwards
+that her mother had latterly got used to sitting in the garden a great
+deal, and even had a couch lifted out there to rest on. It had also
+become the practice for Morris to bring her work out to keep her mother
+company. But Ruth had never guessed what it meant. She was busy with
+her lessons, and went in and out to the High School only full of the
+absorbing interest of her education.
+
+But one Friday afternoon, when she came through the house to find her
+mother in the garden and ran to her with the exclamation, "There! I'm
+'off duty till Monday,' as the nurses say," she noticed that her mother
+looked up at her more earnestly than usual, and that Morris got up with
+her needle in her hand, and began to move towards the house.
+
+"Don't go, Morris!" she had said.
+
+But Morris murmured something about "Your mother's tea."
+
+And Ruth threw her bag of books down on the grass, and bent and kissed
+her mother in her usual careless, loving little way.
+
+Ah, the last time that kiss was ever careless!
+
+"Sit down, dear," said her mother gently, and something in the tone
+struck Ruth as unusual. "I wanted—I wanted to see you—"
+
+"Why, little mother, you see me often enough, don't you?" Ruth had
+answered. "Have I been too full of my girls and my music?" she added,
+with compunction. "I did not mean it."
+
+"No, dearest—oh, no. But, Ruth—I do not know how to tell you—but I
+must—I have not been very strong lately."
+
+"No; but the new house is to make you well, you know! We shall soon be
+up there, and father thinks—"
+
+"He 'hopes,' Ruth—he does not think. But in case I do not get well, in
+case I get more weak, I wanted to tell you something—"
+
+Ruth heard as if in a dream. There was a sound of rushing in her ears,
+and she felt cold chills creeping over her.
+
+"Ruth, dear!" The thin hand was put out and took hers. She had
+never noticed how thin it was till that moment. "Ruth, dear, there
+is something I want to say to you very much. Lately I have been
+thinking—thinking about preparing to meet God! At first, when I began
+to be ill, it was a very dreadful thought. I remembered so many things
+that I wished had been different. I was overwhelmed at first to
+remember that I had lived without thinking much about God at all, or
+trying to please Him; I had never given it a thought. Oh, Ruth! What I
+felt when I had to confess I had never given God a thought!
+
+"And then Morris tried to comfort me. She read me a verse out of her
+little textbook:
+
+   "'If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our
+sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.'
+
+"And she told me how she had found Jesus Christ 'faithful to forgive,'
+and how glad and happy she had been ever since.
+
+"And, Ruth, I was so miserable and so hopeless, that I just did as dear
+old Morris read from that text. I confessed everything to my Saviour,
+Who had died for me, and I found Him faithful to forgive—"
+
+And then Ruth remembered how she had burst away from the detaining
+hand, and had rushed indoors and up to her own room. She remembered
+flinging herself down by her window, and looking at that prospect!
+
+She remembered how green the trees were, how the river had sparkled in
+the sunshine, and how she had cried out in her bitterness that God was
+hard and cruel, for did not her mother mean that she was surely going
+to die?
+
+From that day, Ruth was an altered girl. Her school life, her interest
+in the town doings, everything seemed swept away by the thought that
+God was cruel, and if it was necessary to love Him, she never would
+have that eternal life which her mother spoke of with such growing joy.
+
+She shut her heart up, and nothing that her mother or Morris could say
+seemed to make the least impression.
+
+"I did without it before, and I must do without it now," she once said
+to Morris, in a hard tone, "so let me alone, Morris!"
+
+So as Ruth gazed at the prospect, all that scene swept over her. If
+ever it had come across her, she dismissed the unwelcome thought as
+quickly as she could, rushing at her German or music with all the
+energy of her young, strong nature, and striving to forget that she had
+ever had a mother who had looked at her out of wistful eyes, and who
+had whispered that last day:
+
+   "'We love Him, because He first loved us!'"
+
+But her reverie was interrupted, and she was brought back to the
+present by voices on the stairs. With a sudden start, she thought—
+
+"And now, when at last I have got a friend, she thinks the same
+as—'that!'"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+_PROUD._
+
+DR. ARTHUR ARUNDEL did take the house in the town, and Ruth found that
+her life was no longer without interest.
+
+Mary, as she begged Ruth to call her, was delighted to have her
+society, and claimed her help in arranging the dear old rooms, so that
+in a few weeks everything was done, and they had "settled in," as Ruth
+called it.
+
+She and Mary had, of course, often had a good deal of talk, but after
+that first day there had been no great confidences between them. Ruth
+held back, as she had held back with Morris, all that sad year since
+her mother's death, and Mary saw that her heart was not yet ready
+to open out. She was affectionate, saucy, matter-of-fact, and even
+brilliant by turns, but Mary knew she had only seen the real Ruth once,
+and that once was nearly two months ago now.
+
+One morning, she saw Ruth pass with her violin-case, and ran to the
+window to wave her hand to her. She was surprised to see a very pale,
+set little face turn round, and then a pair of dark, almost glittering
+eyes met hers.
+
+Mary opened the casement, and said: "Shall you be in afterwards?"
+
+And Ruth nodded without a word, and hurried on.
+
+"Mary!" exclaimed Arthur, coming in presently, "What are you looking
+at, my dear?"
+
+"I was watching for Ruth! Somehow, she looks as if she had had some
+blow—"
+
+"Oh! I thought Dr. Brown seemed rather disturbed this morning, and I
+asked him if he felt well. He replied a little testily that he had
+received a letter from India which had—had—worried him. But he did not
+explain."
+
+Mary turned from the window, where she had been eagerly watching the
+door of the High School, which could be seen across the road.
+
+"New friends?" he smiled, as he put his hand on her shoulder. "Poor
+little Mary!"
+
+"But they were not of my seeking," she answered quickly, "and I can
+only do with my life what God sends into it."
+
+"Yes, indeed, dearest! I am glad He sent 'me' into it," he added gently
+and reverently.
+
+"So am I," she answered.
+
+"I must be off—I hope the news little Miss Brown may bring will not
+really be serious. Good-bye, my dearest!"
+
+Mary put the room straight, and did not look anxiously from the window
+any more. Those few words with her husband had made her recall what
+was her life motto: "Bless me, and make me a blessing." So with rested
+heart, she put herself afresh into God's Hands to be used as He wished,
+and then her path seemed clear before her.
+
+She took her work into the cosy drawing-room, and placing the chair
+Ruth liked by the window, she sat down to wait. It was not long before
+the light, quick steps were heard in the hall, and after a slight tap,
+Ruth entered.
+
+She put her violin-case in its accustomed corner, and came to Mary's
+side without speaking. Once or twice she tried, but the voice did not
+come.
+
+"I am afraid something is the matter, dear?" said Mary, kissing her.
+"Sit down here on your own little chair, and tell me if you can."
+
+Ruth stood looking out of the window, and after some moments' silence,
+she said, with husky voice, "I have quarrelled with my father—"
+
+"'Quarrelled?'" echoed Mary. It seemed such an impossible word.
+
+"Yes," assented Ruth. "I never in my life had a wry word with him
+before. We both got angry and lost our tempers, and he shut himself up
+in his study till he went to his patients, and never came to wish me
+good-bye; and I—"
+
+"And you?" asked Mary, too dismayed to waste words.
+
+"I sat for two hours as if I were turned to stone—and then came out to
+my lesson."
+
+"But what could be the cause," said Mary, "if I may ask the question?"
+
+"You may ask," answered Ruth, in a hard tone. "He has written to India
+without consulting me, inviting my uncle's three children to come over
+to live with us, and they will be here in a week!"
+
+"And that causes your grief? I see it does, poor Ruth—"
+
+"Grief?" echoed Ruth in her turn. "It has spoilt my life!"
+
+Mary did not attempt consolation in words yet. Swiftly her heart
+rose in prayer to Him who was her "Strong habitation, whereunto" she
+"continually resorted." And then, putting her hand softly on the rigid
+little ones, she said tenderly, "Come and sit down. How came it about,
+dear?"
+
+Ruth shook her head. Then, after a moment, she said, as if her tongue
+were parched: "Uncle wrote, two months ago—he asked for them to come.
+My father said yes—and that is all."
+
+"I suppose your uncle needed to send them very much, or he would not
+have parted—?" Mary hesitated.
+
+Ruth gave a short gasp. "I suppose he did—he is dying."
+
+"Dying!"
+
+"Yes," she burst forth, "and you will think I am a cruel, cruel girl!
+But if only—oh, Mary, if only my father had asked me—had taken me into
+his confidence! If only we had tried to bear it together, I should not
+have minded so much!"
+
+"It is a great blow for you," said Mary, slowly. "I can understand a
+little about it, because when I was younger, I had something like it.
+Not so bad as yours, but very bad to me at the time. And it turned to
+blessing, Ruth! Indeed it did."
+
+"This never will," exclaimed Ruth, passionately. "If only he had not
+kept it to himself all this time, I could have borne it—"
+
+"'If onlys' lead to distraction," said Mary, very softly. "I have
+learned by many ups and downs that, somehow or other, God turns things
+to blessings to them that love Him."
+
+"Ah!" said Ruth, withdrawing her hand hastily. "But then, you see, I
+don't."
+
+"Not yet," said Mary gently, "but I have hopes—"
+
+There was a long silence. Then Ruth burst out impetuously, "I hate to
+trouble you with all this! I think I will go home now, Mary, and when I
+have got over the shock and am more myself again, I will come back. I
+have no one to speak to—"
+
+Then she broke down, and, laying her proud little head in Mary's lap,
+she wept and wept till some of the anger began to die down in her heart.
+
+"What must your dear father be feeling?" said Mary at length, as she
+smoothed the wavy hair, and ever and anon kissed the bowed head.
+
+Ruth started. "He should not have used me so," she said bitterly.
+
+"I am sorry he did," said Mary. "I dare say he is sorry, too. I dare
+say he never thought it would hurt you so."
+
+Ruth shook her head.
+
+"I have a very tender father at home," said Mary, and as she said it
+she could hear his gentle 'What is it, Molly? There is nothing too hard
+for God!' And her eyes filled with soft tears. "And he told me, Ruth,
+that children have no idea of the love their fathers and mothers bear
+them: have no idea of the pain that they feel if any alienation arises
+between them and their children."
+
+"I never thought it could," said Ruth, very low. "I thought it was as
+impossible for me to be angry with my father, as for the sun to fall
+from the sky. And yet—yet I am more angry—I have been more angry than I
+have ever been in my life."
+
+Her face, which had been raised for a moment in her eagerness, was
+buried again, but her hand in touching Mary's gave it a little pressure.
+
+"Dear Ruth!" said Mary lovingly, "Will you not go to him and try to
+comfort him?"
+
+"I do not think I can—yet."
+
+"Think how sad he must be about his brother!"
+
+"Yes," said Ruth, "I know that. But he ought to have told me."
+
+"I think he ought," said Mary, hesitating a little, "but I cannot think
+that, even if he had made an error in judgment, it could justify a
+daughter in feeling as you have. Forgive me, dear; I should not be a
+true friend if I did not say so."
+
+"You are a true friend," said Ruth brokenly, "and I thank you. But all
+the same for that, I can't make myself feel right, and so it is of no
+use saying I do."
+
+"Certainly not," said Mary decidedly, "but—"
+
+Ruth was a little startled.
+
+"What do you mean?" she asked, raising her head, and her eyes meeting
+Mary's.
+
+"I mean that what is utterly impossible to us, God can do."
+
+"Not this," said Ruth. "As you say, it is utterly impossible, with my
+present feelings."
+
+"If we were to ask God, it would be done," said Mary firmly. "Are you
+willing to 'ask?'"
+
+Ruth could not answer. Thought after thought chased through her heart
+and her brain. Could she, would she? How could that proud, stubborn
+will, which since she could remember had never allowed itself to bow,
+how could she voluntarily ask God to bow it for her?
+
+But her father! Her dear, bereaved father! Could she hold out against
+Mary's loving persuasions? Could she dare to estrange herself one
+moment longer from that dear father whom she had vowed to cherish and
+comfort?
+
+And then God! She who had never asked a single favour of God, could
+she ask now to have her will made ready to do His will? But Mary was
+speaking softly, and the words that reached Ruth's astonished ears were
+these—
+
+   "Oh, dear Lord Jesus Christ, Thou who knowest how hard it is to say
+'Thy Will, not mine, be done,' bring us both to desire from the heart
+that which Thou dost command. Amen."
+
+And Mary heard a broken whispered echo of her Amen, just before Ruth
+flung her arms round her neck, sobbing out: "Oh, I will go, I will go!
+How could I stay away from him like this!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+_THE HARDEST THING._
+
+WHEN Ruth stepped into the carriage which called for her at four
+o'clock, to her surprise her father was not seated in it. Concluding
+that he had been detained somewhere, she sat buried in thought till
+they drew up at The Firs.
+
+Directly she got in, instead of going upstairs which was her usual
+custom, she rang for Mrs. Morris, who came at once.
+
+"Oh, Morris," she exclaimed, "I suppose father has been detained. Will
+you come and have a cup of tea with me?"
+
+"Master came home at one o'clock, Miss Ruth," she answered; "he is gone
+to lie down."
+
+Ruth's heart stood still. "Was he not well?" she asked hurriedly.
+
+"So he said, dear. He would not have anything, but just wanted to be
+quiet, he said."
+
+Ruth was already half-way to the hall, and then she disappeared up the
+stairs, and Morris heard her tap softly at her father's door.
+
+A voice said, "Come in."
+
+And Ruth advanced to the sofa, where her father was lying with a rug
+over him.
+
+She knelt down by his side, and put her arms round his neck. "Oh,
+father, father!" she whispered. "I never meant to grieve you! Is it
+what I said that has made you feel ill? What is it?"
+
+He did not respond very heartily to her beseeching tone; she felt his
+head withdrawn slightly from her kisses, and he turned his face away.
+
+"Can't you tell me?" she urged piteously.
+
+"You would not understand," he answered slowly.
+
+Ruth clasped him the closer, sorrow and dismay in her voice, as
+she exclaimed, "I never meant it! I was only thinking of my own
+disappointment. It was very cruel of me—I never thought! Can you not
+forgive me, father?"
+
+"I will try," he said huskily, sitting up and shivering a little. "Go
+down now, and I will come presently."
+
+Thus dismissed, she found herself once more in the drawing-room,
+looking with blank face into Morris's anxious one.
+
+"Morris! You know about it?" she said, almost inarticulately.
+
+"Yes; Master told me. He was very grieved, dearie, and very sorry to
+have hurt you."
+
+"But he is angry, too, is he not, Morris?" she asked, with burning
+cheeks.
+
+"I think so, Miss. Oh, my childie! What did you say to him to vex him
+so?"
+
+Ruth hung her head. "I was in a passion, and I said he had spoiled my
+life—"
+
+"Oh, my dear!"
+
+"It was very wicked of me! He did not mean it, he did not know. Mrs.
+Arundel has shown me that; and I came back to ask him to forgive
+me—but, Morris, he hasn't."
+
+She sat down utterly crushed, while Morris poured out some tea for her.
+
+"Drink this, dearie, then you will be more fit to be cheerful when he
+comes down! You must remember that men are not always just like women.
+They do not take so much notice of little things, but if a thing does
+hurt them, they are much harder to come round than we are. At least,
+that is what I have noticed."
+
+Ruth looked hopeless. Her passion and her unforgiveness seemed to look
+worse than ever.
+
+"Morris, what can I do?" she asked, imploringly.
+
+"Only ask God, dearie, to make a way out of it for you."
+
+"But it was so wrong of me! So thoughtless of his sorrow; so selfish!"
+
+She broke off suddenly, for there was a step on the stairs, and the
+Doctor came in, looking as if ten years had been added to his life
+since that morning.
+
+"Oh, father, father!" again said Ruth. "I will try to make it up to
+you! But oh, do forgive me when you can—"
+
+She looked pitifully in his face, and he allowed her to nestle in his
+arms. But after a momentary pressure, he turned to the fire, and said:
+"I should like a cup of tea, if you do not mind; and then you can read
+the paper to me."
+
+Thus ended Ruth's hopes of a downright reconciliation. She had said she
+would never forgive him, but little did she think, when those hasty
+words crossed her lips, that it would be he who would find it so hard
+to forgive her!
+
+From that time, quiet preparations were made to welcome the new
+inmates. Morris only remarked to Ruth and to the servants that they
+must all remember it was Master's house; and he could do what he
+thought best with his own: and she set about all matters connected with
+their visitors with cheerful alacrity.
+
+Ruth was too sorrowful to care now for anything except to see to the
+necessary work of getting the rooms ready, and to arrange with her
+father, and then with Morris, where her cousins were to sleep and what
+they would do.
+
+Dr. Brown gradually resumed almost his ordinary manner, but Ruth knew
+the difference, and it cut her to the heart.
+
+
+Mary gave her the same advice as Morris did. "You can pray, now, dear
+Ruth," she said, "so pray every time it crosses your mind, and somehow
+or other God will bring light out of darkness!"
+
+"If I could only think so!" she would mourn.
+
+"Have you not seen 'the impossible' done once?" asked Mary, in that
+little blunt tone that Ruth had got to love.
+
+So Ruth began to pray. And though she knew but little of God, her
+faith, by the very exercise she gave it, began to grow.
+
+One morning, she called to see Mary, and directly she had greeted her,
+she exclaimed, "I cannot stay a minute. We have had a telegram to say
+they will be here with their Ayah by the four o'clock train.
+
+"You will find, I hope, that it is not as bad as you expected—it is
+very bad for you to-day, dear."
+
+Ruth shook her head. "I feel as if their coming is positively nothing
+to the fear I have that my father is angry with me still—"
+
+Mary looked in her face with loving solicitude. "That will be better by
+and by if you go on praying about it."
+
+"Yes," answered Ruth, sorrowfully, "but it is so bad to live through.
+He does not say anything, but he is never cheery now. He is quiet and
+grave, and sits in his study instead of the drawing-room. I feel more
+lonely than ever. Why, it was only yesterday that I asked him if he
+were coming for some music, and he just gathered up his papers, and
+said he should be busy. Do you think it would be of any use to try to
+make it up—I thought I had said all I could—"
+
+Mary paused before answering, and after a moment or so, she said
+slowly, "I 'think' I should just be as dutiful as ever you can, show
+him by every action that you love him dearly and want to be the same as
+ever. I cannot help hoping that it will be better in time, if you can
+be patient."
+
+"I know it was mostly my own fault, for being so angry and saying those
+hard things."
+
+"Yes—"
+
+"I did ask him to forgive me, and yet he has not!"
+
+"Forgiveness is sometimes the hardest thing! Only God can soften his
+heart. When it comes, there will be no doubt about it."
+
+Ruth threw her arms round Mary's neck.
+
+"Ah! You do comfort!" she exclaimed. "How is it?"
+
+"Because I've been 'comforted of God' myself," she answered simply.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+_THE ARRIVAL._
+
+RUTH and Morris stood at the window overlooking the drive, long before
+the travellers could by any possibility arrive from the station, were
+the train never so punctual.
+
+Ruth was pale and flushed by turns, and Morris had hard work to cheer
+her into any degree of pleasant anticipation. Her father's continued
+depression, and the feeling of his displeasure, weighed on her spirits
+like a gloomy cloud over what might otherwise have been a bright
+prospect.
+
+Old Morris held her hand, softly stroking it with her fingers, ever and
+anon suggesting gentle little hopeful sentences in answer to Ruth's
+doleful prognostications.
+
+"I know they'll be horrid!" she exclaimed at last.
+
+"At any rate, they are almost as bad as orphans, dearie," said Morris
+in answer.
+
+Ruth drew her hand away quickly.
+
+"Perhaps you will be able to comfort them? I expect they will be
+home-sick—" said Morris.
+
+"'Home-sick'? This will be their home now."
+
+"Ah! But they will not feel it so at first. They have left their father
+and all they love—and their mother's grave—"
+
+Ruth turned startled eyes on the housekeeper's face.
+
+"I never thought of them as anything but a bother—"
+
+"No, dearie; but it makes such a difference if we think we can do
+something to make them happy—and to make their lives seem a little less
+forlorn in a strange land."
+
+"'A strange land,'" echoed Ruth again. But after a moment she added,
+with a heavy, weary sigh, "Oh, I don't care one way or the other! If my
+father is dull and vexed with me, what is there to care about? It makes
+all the rest of little consequence."
+
+The housekeeper ventured to put her arm round Ruth's shoulders as she
+used when she was a little girl. "Dearie," she said softly, "I know it
+is very hard for you, but do go on as if all were just as it used to
+be. The dear master is as sorrowful as you, but ask God to help you to
+be your bright self, and by and by, you will see that the Lord 'will
+turn darkness into light before you.'"
+
+"That is what Mrs. Arundel says," answered Ruth, turning to kiss the
+faded cheek of her old friend; "I will try, Morris, indeed I will—"
+
+Her sentence was broken short, for at the moment, the station fly
+turned in at the gate, piled up with luggage, and several young faces
+peeped out of the window.
+
+"Here, Ruth!" called Dr. Brown. "Where are you?"
+
+But Ruth was already at the door, and found a tall boy shaking hands
+with her, and an ayah dressed in Indian costume helping a delicate
+looking little boy from the cab, who seemed hardly to have strength to
+walk up the two broad steps to the door.
+
+A little girl with a proud little head and dark flashing eyes followed,
+carrying a dainty basket and a light Indian shawl.
+
+Ruth bent and kissed the two children much more warmly than she could
+have done half an hour ago, and then, motioning them to follow Morris
+to the dining-room, she ran up to her father and flung her arms round
+his neck.
+
+"'Dear' father!" she said earnestly.
+
+He glanced at her hastily, and then followed the party into the
+dining-room, where a pleasant meal was spread ready for them.
+
+"I will show you where to hang your coat, Heston," said Ruth.
+
+He followed her through the hall, and hung up his coat as directed,
+while she managed to ask if they had had a nice journey.
+
+"From India?" he questioned.
+
+"I meant from London," answered Ruth, smiling. "I suppose that is
+nothing after all your travels?"
+
+"No," he responded.
+
+And Ruth wondered what next she could say to interest him if the first
+question fell flat like this.
+
+Morris now suggested that they should be shown their rooms, while the
+maid brought in the meal.
+
+So Ruth took Norman's hand, and was going on before, when the ayah
+interposed.
+
+"He not walk quickly," she said; "I bring him. Will you go on, missy?"
+
+Norman shrank to the ayah's side, and Ruth went on, followed by Judith
+and Heston.
+
+"This is your room, Heston, next to my father's, and we have put Norman
+in this little room next to you."
+
+Heston looked so dismayed that she broke off abruptly.
+
+"He used to sleep in a room adjoining Mala's. He isn't strong," said
+Judith almost reproachfully.
+
+Ruth turned to Morris. "What shall we do, Morris? How can we manage?"
+
+"Let them take off their hats, Miss Ruth, in the rooms we have got
+ready, and we can ask the Doctor what he would think best."
+
+Ruth gladly assented, and then conducted Judith to a sunny
+dressing-room which opened from her own chamber. It had cost her a
+great deal to give up that dressing-room, but her father had objected
+to the little stranger being put on the upper floor far away from her
+brothers.
+
+Mala looked rather glum, but she began taking off Norman's gloves in
+the little room apportioned to him, brushing his hair and making him
+ready for tea.
+
+Ruth went downstairs with a heavy heart. This beginning was worse even
+than she had anticipated.
+
+Her father was waiting with an expectant look. "Well," he asked, "do
+they like their quarters?"
+
+"They have hardly settled in yet," answered Ruth, who had been used for
+the last year to make the best possible of everything. "They are taking
+off their things now."
+
+"Yes—yes. I expect they are shy."
+
+"Very shy; and Morris thinks they will be home-sick—"
+
+"Eh? Oh, perhaps they will. He's a big boy, Heston, isn't he? And looks
+as if he knew his own mind."
+
+"Yes, I daresay he does," she assented, thinking that at any rate
+Judith did, and so did the ayah!
+
+They soon came down. The ayah put Norman comfortably at the table,
+and gave him a footstool, which she produced from beneath her flowing
+garments, one he had evidently used on the journey. After which, with a
+comprehensive glance all round, she silently and noiselessly left the
+room, and the meal began.
+
+Dr. Brown busied himself with helping his young guests, and Ruth poured
+out the tea and tried to make conversation.
+
+Heston responded quite pleasantly to all that was said, and seemed
+accustomed to talking to older people, so that he and Dr. Brown plunged
+into the topics of the day, which the boy had evidently heard discussed
+on board the steamer, and his observations were modest and acute. Dr.
+Brown decided in his own mind that his nephew had good sense worth
+cultivating.
+
+Judith sat in silence, her dark eyes scanning the faces of each in
+turn. She answered Ruth's remarks politely, but in a condescending way
+that made poor Ruth's cheeks burn. Her one thought seemed her little
+brother, and life to her was how it might affect him. While Ruth saw
+this and respected it, she thought that she might have waited to
+see how they all treated Norman before she decided that he would be
+neglected.
+
+Dr. Brown, busy as he was with talking, kept his observant eyes on the
+pale little guest whose appetite seemed to fail him after the first few
+minutes, and who turned whiter and whiter as the meal progressed.
+
+"My dear," he said at last, in the tone Ruth was accustomed to hear
+when he spoke to his little patients, "you look tired; would you rather
+lie on the sofa, or go into the other room?"
+
+Norman started on being spoken to, but did not answer otherwise than by
+looking appealingly towards Judith.
+
+She sprang up and came and bent over him.
+
+After an instant, she answered, "He feels rather faint and sick. I will
+take him to Mala," which she proceeded to do before Ruth could have
+presence of mind to ring the bell.
+
+She came back very quietly in a few moments, and finished what was on
+her plate, refusing any more rather abruptly.
+
+Ruth would fain have made things go more smoothly, but the discomfort
+of the situation was becoming almost unbearable.
+
+"Shall we go upstairs and unpack, Judith?" she asked, as they rose from
+the table.
+
+"Mala will do all that," said Judith, "but I will go up and see Norman
+to bed. That is, if I know where he is to sleep."
+
+"I will ask my father," said Ruth. "Will you and Heston go to the
+drawing-room while we speak about it?"
+
+"He has to have Mala in the same room," exclaimed Judith, "she is his
+nurse; he never sleeps alone! My father said before we left India that
+he had written to uncle all about it. He's an invalid—I never thought
+anyone could be so unkind as to put him to sleep alone!" she concluded
+passionately.
+
+Ruth turned toward Dr. Brown in dismay.
+
+"I will see to it," said Dr. Brown gravely and firmly. "You two go into
+the drawing-room, as Ruth said, and I will come to you there when I
+have spoken to her."
+
+Judith looked in two minds whether to obey, but Heston hastily drew her
+into the other room, and Ruth and her father found themselves in the
+study.
+
+"This is a 'kettle of fish'!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea the poor
+child was an invalid, or that we were going to be saddled with that
+ayah—"
+
+"Don't you think I had better go up and begin to help them unpack?
+Perhaps we shall get more sociable so?"
+
+"Yes, perhaps you had better do that. Send Heston to me. My brother
+ought to have told me more about them. I feel weary with it all."
+
+Ruth looked longingly at him, but he did not respond as he once would
+have done.
+
+"Bring Heston," he repeated. "I must find out what they think is wrong
+with the child—"
+
+Ruth turned to the door with her message, and in a moment, Heston came
+in with some anxiety in his eyes.
+
+"I must go to Judith," said Ruth, turning to the door. "I will come
+down again presently."
+
+"My boy," said Dr. Brown kindly, as he put his hand on his nephew's
+shoulder, "I was unprepared for your little brother being such an
+invalid. What is it?"
+
+"Did not my father write to you? Has not the letter reached? It was
+that which made him so anxious about our coming, that Norman might have
+the best advice. Did not the letter come?"
+
+"No letter has come about him—no particulars about any of you."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+_THE LOST LETTER._
+
+"COME, Judith," said Ruth, when she went back to the others, "we will
+go upstairs and put away some of your things, shall we?"
+
+"Just as you like—"
+
+"Then we will. There is a dear little chest of drawers in your room,
+just what will suit you! I had them when I was your age."
+
+"I do not much mind," said Judith. "I wish I knew where Norman is to
+sleep—"
+
+The ayah looked up eagerly, and was going to explain her view of the
+case, but Ruth stopped her at once. "My father will hear all about it,
+and will then decide. He is a doctor, and is sure to be kind."
+
+With this Mala had to be satisfied, though she submitted with very bad
+grace, fussing over her little charge ostentatiously, and asking him if
+he were not tired, and did not want to go to bed?
+
+To all of which he seemed to reply very little, but sat patiently on
+the sofa, holding something evidently very precious in his arms, and
+peeping in at the side of the parcel very often.
+
+Ruth had never been used to opposition or contradiction since her
+babyhood, and it made her blood boil to have the ayah defy her in
+manner, if not in words.
+
+"How shall I bear it," she thought. And then, with a sense of relief,
+she remembered Mary Arundel's words, "Nothing is impossible to God,"
+and then all at once the acuteness of the burden seemed lifted. "I'll
+try to be loving to her," she said to herself, and turned to Judith,
+who was standing near her, with her dark eyes fixed upon her face.
+
+"Judith, dear!" she exclaimed, in a gentle beseeching tone.
+
+Just at this moment, they heard Heston's step springing up the stairs.
+He entered the open door and seated himself, as if quite at home, upon
+one of Judith's trunks. Then after a glance at the other two, he bent
+forward to undo the fastenings of a Gladstone bag in front of him.
+
+Ruth had wound herself up to a great effort; a sudden hope had sprung
+up in her heart that she might win this proud little cousin, instead of
+almost hating her.
+
+"Judith, dear," she said, almost in a whisper, "can you not try to love
+me? Indeed, I mean to be kind, and do all I can to make you happy—"
+
+Ruth's eyes were full. She sat down on the edge of a chair, and took
+the child's delicate little hands in hers, and looked up in her face.
+
+"You can treat me as you like!" exclaimed Judith. "I can bear it. It is
+Norman, poor little afflicted Norman, who cannot stand up for himself,
+that I care about—"
+
+"But, dear, Norman shall have every care—"
+
+"What!" exclaimed his sister passionately. "And the very first thing
+you do is to put him in a room by himself, away from everybody, when he
+may be frightened, and cannot call if he were! I think it is cruel—"
+and she wrenched away her hand.
+
+"Cannot call?" echoed Ruth, turning her eyes appealingly to Heston, who
+suddenly exclaimed, "Dry up this fuss, Judith. Cousin Ruth, I'm awfully
+sorry, but my uncle never had the letter; so of course you don't know."
+
+"Know what?" asked Ruth, with sinking heart at she knew not what.
+
+And then Judith's little fingers were laid on hers with trembling
+eagerness, and the dark eyes were raised beseechingly, as she said with
+a sob—
+
+"He cannot speak—he is dumb!"
+
+Ruth had enough tenderness and womanliness to gather the trembling
+child into her arms, as she exclaimed, "Oh, I never knew! How is it we
+did not know? I cannot believe it—"
+
+"The letters did not reach uncle," said Heston, coming to their side,
+"but don't take on, Cousin Ruth. Perhaps something may be done for him.
+That's partly why my father was so glad for us to come to England."
+
+"But when?" asked Ruth, looking up and wiping her eyes.
+
+"While I was at school in Germany. It was a sudden fright. My father
+always hoped he would outgrow it, so very little was said about it at
+the time. But it is four years now."
+
+Judith was still standing within Ruth's arm; Mala was bustling about
+from room to room, carrying clothes and belongings to their different
+places.
+
+How much she took in of the facts of the case could not be guessed from
+her impassive face.
+
+Suddenly Judith moved. She had not spoken one word hitherto since her
+outburst. She had only scanned Ruth's face to see there, perhaps, the
+truth or falsehood of this astonishing situation. Apparently having
+satisfied herself, she stepped in front of her cousin, and said humbly,
+"Cousin Ruth, I beg your pardon for what I said—I was mistaken—" And
+with that, she fled into the other room, and was found kissing her
+little brother and making much of him.
+
+"He want to open his mice, missy Ruth. But he tired now—where I put him
+to bed?"
+
+"It's all settled," said Heston; "at least, you are to go down, please,
+Cousin Ruth, and see uncle. I forgot to tell you before. Come along,
+Norman, I'll undo the mice, and we'll see if they are all right. You
+will soon be in bed now, and can have them by you, as usual, uncle
+says."
+
+As Ruth went down the stairs, she felt as if a great piece of life had
+passed since that afternoon. But she had the warm feeling at her heart
+that once again she had been "helped," and this gave her fresh courage
+for the future.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+_AN ANGRY ELEPHANT._
+
+RUTH opened the study door.
+
+Her father was seated by his writing-table with his head on his hands.
+When he looked up there was a haggard expression on his face.
+
+She came close and put her arms round his neck. How could she comfort
+him, when her own heart felt so heavy?
+
+But another thought came, a thought of forgiveness. She bent and kissed
+his forehead.
+
+"Father," she said, in a tremulous voice, "we must make the best of it,
+must we not? If you and I can face it together, it will not seem so
+bad!"
+
+"I'll try, my dear," he responded. And then suddenly, he turned his
+head and kissed her warmly—as he had not kissed her since the sorrowful
+day that she had said he had spoilt her life.
+
+Ruth's heart beat. She managed to whisper, "You have forgiven me then?
+I may be sure that no cloud is between us now?"
+
+There was a moment's pause, and then he kissed her again with the
+greatest tenderness.
+
+"My dear, you have something to forgive too; but we will begin again."
+
+Ruth swallowed her tears, and tried to recover her voice so as not to
+grieve him.
+
+"I came down to ask you about the bedroom for Norman. Is it not
+dreadful about him?"
+
+Her father rose and led the way back to the drawing-room, and sat down
+in his usual chair with a sigh of relief. Ruth remembered that he had
+not once been in there since that day.
+
+"Well!" he said. "We will make the best of it, as you said—after all,
+many people would say that a pretty little girl and a bright boy were
+not such a terrible task, and as to the poor little fellow, if only he
+gets good, and is happy—"
+
+He broke off, and looked meditatively at the fern-filled fireplace.
+
+"Yes—oh, yes!" said Ruth eagerly, "I mean to make up my mind to it
+happily. I feel sure I shall, if you are not—worried."
+
+He smiled a little sadly.
+
+"Well, about this room? We shall have to give them up the spare room,
+Ruth!"
+
+"We seldom use it—"
+
+"No; at any rate, we can say he and the ayah shall have that for the
+present. How would that be? I would give something if that ayah had not
+come. I do not trust her face."
+
+"I cannot say I like her."
+
+"Well—we shall see. The child could not have travelled without her,
+that is one thing."
+
+So Ruth sped upstairs, for she felt anxious that the little invalid
+should be able to go to bed as soon as possible.
+
+She went straight to where she heard Heston's voice.
+
+"Heston," she said, "we are going to put Norman into the spare room for
+the present, and Mala can have her bed brought into the corner; there
+is plenty of room. Come, Norman dear, I am sure you are tired with your
+journey. Shall I show you where it is? The room is next to Judith's!"
+
+She bent over him and kissed his forehead, then offering her hand, she
+led him gently along the landing to the back of the house, where the
+view over to the Welsh hills was now fading into purple mist.
+
+Norman looked round with a pleased expression, and Judith glanced
+gratefully at Ruth.
+
+"He likes it," she nodded. "Thank you."
+
+"Mala can put him quietly to bed, and when he is comfortable we will
+come in and have a little look at him," said Ruth, kindly. "Meanwhile,
+the servants shall bring down Mala's bedstead, and have it ready to
+wheel in."
+
+"Can I help?" asked Heston. "You see, Cousin Ruth, I've been used to
+brisk Germany, and not lazy India! I can do all sorts of things in a
+handy way."
+
+"I am so glad!" exclaimed Ruth. "That will suit my father. Thank you,
+then, if you would direct the maids how to bring it down the back
+stairs. And please, Heston, call me Ruth! I'm only a year older than
+you, and have only just got out of a school-girl."
+
+"All the better," said Heston, bluntly. "I was almost afraid, by your
+looks, you were a young lady!"
+
+Ruth laughed merrily. She felt so lighthearted at her father's having
+cheered up, that the whole world wore a different aspect.
+
+At length all was done, the little pale face on the white pillow was
+smiled upon, and Ruth had whispered to the dumb child that she should
+soon learn how to understand his finger-talking, and with another
+good-night to Judith, who also wished to go to bed, Ruth and Heston
+went down to find Dr. Brown.
+
+He had, however, been called out, so they sat down in the drawing-room
+and began to get acquainted.
+
+Heston had plenty to tell her of his school in Germany, and the reasons
+why his father had decided against his coming to England; and it was
+some time before Ruth could lead him back to what her mind was so full
+of—the cause of the sad affliction that had come to little Norman.
+
+"You see, it was like this," explained Heston, who, having lately
+told his uncle, felt as if it were rather an old tale—"sometimes my
+father's official business gave him occasion to go into the jungle; he
+often used elephants on these journeys. My mother before her death,
+four years ago, accompanied him when she could, and on the particular
+journey which we have such cause to remember, she took Norman with her.
+
+"He was an extremely sensitive child, and, we remembered afterwards,
+had always been timid of the elephant rides. One day, my father had a
+call to make at one of the outlying residences, and my mother decided
+not to alight, so the elephants waited with their drivers beneath the
+shade of some trees.
+
+"The driver of mother's elephant was very partial to one of the other
+drivers, who was not a favourite with anyone.
+
+"Mother noticed that this man kept on teasing her elephant, and that
+the animal was growing very restless.
+
+"They remember that Norman's eyes were wide open with fear lest the
+elephant should get really angry, when suddenly he turned on the man
+and caught him up with his trunk, and made off with him towards the
+river!
+
+"Our driver's frantic efforts to stop him were unavailing, for the
+elephant took no notice of him, nor of the full howdah on his back. He
+made straight for the river and our mother thought they would all be
+drowned.
+
+"When he reached the edge of the water, he splashed down into it up to
+his knees, and proceeded to plunge the man in three times over! Then,
+satisfied that justice had been awarded, he turned and deposited the
+man on the bank, himself quietly walking back to the shade of the trees
+and to the other elephants.
+
+"When Mala and mother recovered from their terror, our little Norman
+was found to have fainted, and from that time to this he has never
+spoken a word."
+
+"Oh, how sad! Does my father think that anything can be done for him?"
+exclaimed Ruth.
+
+"He is going to watch him carefully before he gives any opinion. But I
+think—I hope I was not mistaken in thinking—that he does not consider
+it quite hopeless."
+
+"Poor little boy!" said Ruth, pitifully.
+
+There was a pause, and at length Heston said, with frank earnestness—
+
+"Cousin Ruth! I'm afraid we have been an awful bother coming like this!
+We do appreciate Uncle's kindness and yours, though our first beginning
+does not look much like it. I hope you'll understand that we meant to
+be nice."
+
+He held out his hand, and Ruth shook it with a grateful look in her
+clear eyes.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+_A DREAM._
+
+IT was late when Dr. Brown came in, and long before that, Heston had
+suggested that he should go upstairs to write to his father, and then
+go to bed.
+
+"You look tired, cousin Ruth," he had added solicitously. "I am sure
+this has been a hard day to you, so I will leave you in peace."
+
+"You will come down and have some tea with me presently? Perhaps my
+father will be in."
+
+"Thank you—but I think I will let you be quiet?"
+
+"Oh, no!" exclaimed Ruth. "Come back at nine, and we will be cosy."
+
+So when the clock in the hall chimed nine, Heston came bounding down
+the stairs.
+
+"I have finished my letter, and now I shall not stay long! You and
+uncle have had no time together."
+
+Ruth smiled. She had wanted a talk with her father very much, but she
+thought it was very thoughtful of Heston to think of it.
+
+He soon wished her good-night, and she was left alone.
+
+Morris came up then, but after a few words, she said Ruth looked tired,
+and she also went.
+
+Ruth was tired. She sat motionless in her chair with her hands in her
+lap. And then her mind went back to her father and to his changed
+attitude towards her. What had caused the sudden difference? And had he
+meant by what he had said that he should explain it to her?
+
+Her heart bounded at the thought that God had heard her prayer, and
+that the sorrowful estrangement seemed to have passed away.
+
+She sat so for a long time, her mind reverting to Judith, and Mala,
+and Norman, and then coming back with a sense of relief to the thought
+of Heston's friendliness. Truly, to-night she had many things to be
+thankful for, as Morris had whispered with her good-night kiss.
+
+At length her father's latchkey was heard, and his step in the hall,
+weary enough she knew.
+
+She sprang up and welcomed him, and he came in to the pleasant, bright
+room where his delayed meal was spread ready for him.
+
+He was very silent, but not a silence that grieved her. She was sure it
+was only that he had much to think of.
+
+Presently he began to talk about Norman, but she was sure he had
+something else to say, and that this was only while the maid went in
+and out in waiting on him.
+
+"I have been to see Dr. Arundel," he said, "and he looks hopefully upon
+Norman's recovery, as far as he can judge from my account. He wants to
+thoroughly go into his case with me as soon as the child has got used
+to us. It is of no use to be in a hurry in these nervous cases."
+
+"Oh, no; and he is so shy yet."
+
+"Just so."
+
+The cloth had been removed by this time, and they were now alone. The
+clock had just struck eleven, and they felt as if the house were to
+themselves.
+
+"Oh, Ruth, my dear, I am glad to have you to come back to!" said her
+father fondly. "Come and sit by me; I want to tell you something."
+
+How gladly she ran to him, and sat down on her low chair by his side.
+How naturally her head sought its old place on his shoulder, and how
+inexpressibly comforting it was to feel his arm put round her once more.
+
+There was a long silence. Ruth knew he had something to say, so she
+waited patiently, and at length he spoke.
+
+"I have had a very strange experience to-day, Ruth, and I do not know
+that I can properly tell you about it. But I must try—"
+
+"About one of your patients, father?"
+
+"Yes; about that man who has been ill so long out in the village
+yonder—up by the farmhouse—you know—"
+
+"Oh, yes—Smith—I know!"
+
+"Well, yes. He has been ill for three months, and he has fretted
+dreadfully about what is to become of his wife and children—but that is
+by the way, it has nothing to do with to-day. Well, the district nurse
+has been caring for him very nicely, and lending him good books and
+talking to him; but it all seemed of very little use, as he was just
+the same, and nothing seemed to comfort him at all.
+
+"This morning, knowing that he had been suffering all yesterday, I
+drove round there as early as I could.
+
+"His wife met me at the door, and she said at once, 'Oh, doctor, he's
+better; he's had such a wonderful dream!'
+
+"'I am glad if he is better,' I said, entering.
+
+"'The nurse is up there, and he's telling her about it.'
+
+"So I went up, and, to my amazement, the man's face was altered, and
+his whole bearing different.
+
+"'Doctor,' he said, holding out his hand, 'I'm telling nurse my
+wonderful dream. May I tell you?'
+
+"You know, Ruth, as a rule I am too busy to listen to dreams, but
+something impelled me to stay and hear what had made all the difference
+to poor Smith.
+
+"'Tell on, my friend,' I said, and sat down behind the nurse, so that
+he continued to address himself to her.
+
+"'Listen,' he said, 'nurse, do you remember saying to me yesterday,
+"Prepare to meet thy God"?'
+
+"So the nurse said, 'I remember very well—'
+
+"'After you were gone, I couldn't get those words out of my head.
+"Prepare to meet thy God!" I knew I was not prepared, and I did not
+know how to prepare! All was dark and gloomy, and yet over and over in
+my heart rang those words, "Prepare to meet thy God!"
+
+"'While I was thinking ever so sorrowfully about them, I seemed to fall
+asleep, and yet what I saw was as clear as if it were happening before
+my eyes.
+
+"'I saw the cross of our Saviour set up right in front of me! And on
+the cross I could see our Saviour hanging. Think of it! To see our
+Saviour nailed to the cross in front of me!
+
+"'And close to the cross, between me and it, there was a great, deep
+hole—a dark pit—and I found myself moving nearer and nearer to that
+deep pit.
+
+"'But though I could not but see that pit, and knew that I should fall
+into it because I was not prepared to meet God, yet I could not but
+look on our Saviour's face. For as He hung there, tears rolled down it,
+and I did not like to see Him cry!
+
+"'So I said to someone standing by me, "Why does our Saviour cry?"
+
+"'And the one who stood by answered, "Because you will fall into that
+dreadful pit. He is dying to save you, and you will not come to Him to
+be saved!"
+
+"'And I said, "Oh, dear Saviour, I do not want to make you cry, I
+'will' come and be saved! You shall not die in vain for me!"
+
+"'And then when I looked for the pit, it had gone all away; it was
+filled quite up! And then I began to wake up from my dream, and I found
+my wife was shaking me by the arm, and she said, "Smith, Smith, you are
+singing in your sleep!"
+
+"'And I said, "What was I singing?"
+
+"'And she said, "The hymn that was in that book nurse lent you—
+
+   "'"Wash me in the Blood of the Lamb,
+      And I shall be whiter than snow!"'"
+
+"'And so, nurse, I woke up! But instead of saying over and over to
+myself "Prepare to meet thy God," I'm saying all the time—
+
+   "'"Wash me in the Blood of the Lamb,
+      And I shall be whiter than snow!"
+
+"'And nurse,' he added, 'I'm not going to fret about my wife and my
+children any more, nor about the rent either, for my Saviour's going to
+see to all that for me!'"
+
+       •       •       •       •       •
+
+Ruth hid her face in her father's breast. To her had come in this story
+a new revelation of her own sinfulness and of her Saviour's love.
+Hitherto Mary Arundel's words had helped her to a living contact with
+Christ, but her knowledge had been small, both of Him and of herself.
+Now she realised how little she had loved Him, who had borne so much
+that she might be saved!
+
+But her father was speaking, while he pressed her tenderly to his heart.
+
+"Ruth, my darling, I want you to forgive your father all his hard
+thoughts and unkind ways for the last month! I never saw it in its
+true light till I stood, as it were, by that cross this morning, and
+the moment I saw my own sinfulness, then I found I could forgive those
+words of yours that had cut me to the heart—
+
+"Oh, father, father!" sobbed Ruth.
+
+"Forgive my mentioning them, my dear! Only this once, and then never
+again. We were both in fault; I far more than you. Will you forgive me?"
+
+Ruth raised her lips and kissed him. "I never ought to have said it.
+Oh, father, do not speak as if I had to forgive you—it was all my
+fault—"
+
+She could not go on, and nothing but speechless caresses of tenderness
+sealed the pardon on both sides.
+
+"Now, my dear," he said at last, "we will go hand in hand towards your
+mother's home, as she begged us. I've been looking up a text she wrote
+with trembling hand in her Bible for me—
+
+   "'Thou hast cast all my sins behind Thy back.'
+
+"He's done that for me and for you, I know, and now life is a different
+thing for us henceforth."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+_AT RIVERSIDE._
+
+"MARY, this is the prettiest place, I think, that I have ever seen!"
+
+They were standing at the bottom of the garden, looking down the
+stretch of shining river, which shone like silver in the morning sun.
+
+"Lovely! Is it not, Vincent? Who would have thought after all my
+grumbles, and want of faith, that I should be given my heart's desire
+like this!"
+
+"Oh, well, Mary, I don't know about grumbles and want of faith! We all
+have our little grumbles at times. But one thing I do know, and that is
+that when once you set out to do God's will, you went at it."
+
+Mary smiled at her twin, while she shook her head.
+
+"I don't know, Vincent; sometimes I think God has had more patience
+with me than with any of His children!"
+
+Vincent pondered. But after a moment or two, he answered, "Don't you
+think we all of us feel that, knowing a little of our own hearts? He
+has patience with us in our different ways, and leads us on that we may
+be 'conformed to His image' more and more."
+
+"Yes—" she answered slowly. Then turning to him, she said—
+
+"Let us go up and sit on the garden-seat where the maids will see us.
+They will think I am lost to be out at this time in the morning."
+
+She led the way back over the field and through the pretty shrubbery
+till they came in view of the house.
+
+"Now, Pollie!" he exclaimed. "Tell me all about yourself."
+
+"I don't know where to begin," she answered, smiling. "I'm so happy,
+Vincent!"
+
+"You look it," he answered.
+
+"Yes, I never guessed that I should have His 'more abundantly,' as
+Arthur says, like this—"
+
+"Well, I'm glad," he answered heartily.
+
+"But tell me about your doings," she responded. "Mine are all summed up
+in what I have told you, and you see the filling in of it all in this
+sweet house and garden, and my happy surroundings."
+
+"My doings are on the old style. Mr. Brown is very kind, and I am
+getting on first rate. How funny, Pollie, that Arthur's partner should
+be my Mr. Brown's cousin!"
+
+"Yes, is it not? You have heard that Dr. Brown's daughter is my little
+friend?"
+
+"A rival to Ada?" he asked mischievously.
+
+"I don't deal in rivals; I never did. My heart has got sort of
+chambers, Vincent, which hold different people. No one takes from
+anyone else! The more people I love, the bigger my heart grows."
+
+Vincent laughed. "What's she like?" he asked.
+
+"Not like anyone we know at home," she answered, shaking her head. "But
+you will see for yourself, I expect. She is sure to come in presently
+if she can."
+
+Then Mary told him about Ruth's trouble over the Indian children, and
+also that she had not seen her since their arrival.
+
+"How long can you stay?" she asked at length. "You have never told me
+that."
+
+"Perhaps I was waiting to be asked," he answered.
+
+"Oh—well," laughed Mary, "perhaps you were! That would not be like the
+Vincent of old days."
+
+"But then you see you've got a 'better half.' Suppose he does not want
+me?"
+
+"Nonsense!" said Mary. "Think how he greeted you last night. You are a
+naughty boy, Vincent."
+
+"Well, if I am to tell you how long I can stay, I can be here over
+Sunday, if you'll have me. Mr. Brown had a particular parcel he wanted
+to send to your Dr. Brown, and he thought I should like to see you, and
+so—here I am."
+
+"I never was more surprised, or I think more glad. I have been longing
+to see you."
+
+
+Meanwhile, Ruth had despatched her housekeeping duties, and had seen
+her cousins comfortably settled in the garden, and excusing herself for
+a short time, she drove down as usual with her father.
+
+"I shall have to give up my lessons, father," she said, as she sat by
+his side. "I shall not be able to be out all the morning, shall I?"
+
+"I am afraid not," said Dr. Brown slowly. "But we will talk that over
+this evening. You and I shall quite value our little bits of time
+together, my dear!"
+
+"Ah! Shall we not," answered Ruth happily.
+
+"How have you got on with them this morning?"
+
+"Quite nicely. Heston is so kind; and Judith means to be nice, but she
+is evidently rather suspicious. Norman is a dear little fellow. I have
+learnt some of his finger-talking already."
+
+"It is not difficult; but I am glad you have taken to him."
+
+"He is so helpless! And he looks so pitifully at you when he wants you
+to understand."
+
+"I am longing to have Arundel up to see him. But we must not be in a
+hurry."
+
+"No—I want him to feel confidence in us. If it were not for Mala, I
+think all would be smooth. The servants cannot bear her, Morris says."
+
+Dr. Brown looked earnestly at her, but at the moment, the carriage drew
+up at Riverside, and Ruth wished him a hasty good-bye and sprang out.
+
+The maid seemed surprised to see her so early, but on her enquiry for
+Mrs. Arundel she answered, "She's in the garden, miss; shall I call
+her?"
+
+"Oh, no, I will find her," said Ruth.
+
+And so it came to pass that Mary and Vincent, still sitting on the
+sunny seat, saw a vision of a little figure coming through the garden
+door and flying over the lawn towards them.
+
+When Ruth paused in front of them and looked up from under her shady
+hat, her amazement knew no bounds.
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon!" she faltered. "I thought you were sitting with
+Dr. Arthur—"
+
+"It is my brother Vincent," said Mary, smiling; "you have often heard
+of him—"
+
+Ruth shook hands, but she was much annoyed with herself for her
+mistake, and it was some moments before she had recovered sufficiently
+to bear her part in the conversation.
+
+Mary, however, was always too natural and downright to let small
+mishaps trouble her long. She laughed the matter off, and begged Ruth
+to tell her how she had fared with her guests from India.
+
+We know the story, and Ruth soon began to lose her shyness in telling
+Mary about the ayah and about Norman, so that before very long they
+were chatting away as if they had known each other for years.
+
+"There will be something for you to do," said Vincent, in his
+straightforward way.
+
+"For me?" asked Ruth. "Did you mean that I could aid in his recovery?"
+
+"I was thinking so too," said Mary.
+
+Ruth coloured with pleasure and surprise.
+
+"I should 'like' to—"
+
+"No one will have so much chance, I should think," said Mary.
+
+
+As Ruth went home, walking up that long hill, she pondered very deeply
+on what the brother and sister had suggested.
+
+She had taken a great fancy to Norman, and he evidently had taken the
+same liking for her. If she could indeed be the means of doing him any
+good, what a joy and delight it would be! But what could she do?
+
+She set herself to consider the matter in all its bearings. She thought
+if she were dumb, what would she wish done for her—how would she like
+people to treat her?
+
+All at once, the instinct of nursing seemed to spring up in her heart.
+She had never guessed at its presence till now, and it came as a
+revelation. Her mother used to say she nursed beautifully, but all the
+sorrow and misery she had gone through had made her forget it till this
+moment. She remembered now that if her father had been indisposed, she
+had always been able to devise palliative measures, and to carry them
+out with great comfort. Could it be that this was a gift?
+
+And if a gift—her heart leapt to another thought. She would thank the
+Giver of the gift, and ask Him to bless it!
+
+She stood still beneath the fir-trees, and looked over the lovely
+prospect to be seen between them.
+
+"Help me to be the means of blessing to Norman!" she prayed with
+clasped hands.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+_INVADED._
+
+THE next morning when Ruth went, as usual, to speak to Morris about the
+dinner, she found the housekeeper unusually perturbed, and it did not
+take long for her to discover the cause of it.
+
+The cook had just been in to say she and the other servants wished to
+give notice in a body because of Mala! They declined to let her share
+their kitchen or their meals.
+
+Ruth felt as if the cares of the world were on her shoulders.
+
+"What 'shall' we do?" she exclaimed, almost piteously.
+
+She had just settled her three cousins in the dining-room with the
+bagatelle board, while Mala had crept upstairs in her usual silent
+fashion to see to her children's rooms.
+
+Ruth had thought that she need not think about them again for an hour
+perhaps, and now this was worse than ever!
+
+"I believe it often is an objection," was Morris's hardly consolatory
+answer; "and I am afraid, Miss Ruth, that we shall have to tell the
+Doctor. Something must be done, and it would be a pity to lose all our
+nice maids for the sake of one!"
+
+"But my father says Mala must stay till Norman gets used to us—for ever
+so long, I am afraid."
+
+Morris was silent. She shared in the trial it was to have their quiet
+home broken up, and she felt it keenly. All had been working so well,
+and they had been so happy.
+
+"My father has enough to worry him without this," Ruth went on, looking
+up in her old friend's face.
+
+"Yes, dearie," answered Morris, slowly. "I've been thinking a good bit
+all night of any way out of it, that is, if the Doctor does not wish to
+part with her, and the only way I can see is this—"
+
+There was a momentary hesitation, and Ruth felt sure that the plan
+which was going to be proposed would cost Morris a great deal.
+
+"Yes?" she said, gently.
+
+"After all, dearie, though we don't like Mala very much at present,
+she's one for whom Christ died, and it doesn't do for us to despise
+each other. He did not wait till we were worthy before He loved us!"
+
+"Oh, no!" assented Ruth. "And you thought—what, dear Morris?"
+
+"I thought, dearie, that as we could not give her a sitting-room to
+herself—we have not one—that if the other servants will stay, I will
+have Mala with me."
+
+"In here?" asked Ruth, looking round blankly on the cosy little room
+which had been the old housekeeper's sanctum and chief joy.
+
+"Yes, in here," said Morris, more steadily. "I think I can put up with
+her and make her happy, and the question has seemed to come to me all
+night, 'Can you not do it for Christ's sake?'"
+
+"Oh, Morris, dear, I do not think my father will ever allow it!"
+
+"Oh yes, he will, if you put it before him in the right light. It may
+not be for very long; but, anyway, we shall do nicely. Will you go up
+and ask master about it, and I'll see to the dinners to-day, because
+something must be settled at once."
+
+So Ruth kissed Morris affectionately, and ran up to the library with
+her unpleasant budget.
+
+Her father's answer when he had heard it was very calm. "I'm not
+surprised," he said.
+
+The end of it was that Dr. Brown accepted Morris's self-denying plan,
+"for the present," and before lunch-time, a carpet chair and a little
+table were placed in a corner of the housekeeper's room for Mala, and
+she brought down her basket and settled herself silently there as if
+it had been her home for years. Whenever Morris saw the black head
+bending over her work, or caught sight of the bright flowing garments
+coming and going, she said to herself, "For Christ's sake," and it was
+wonderful how that helped her to be not only patient, but happy.
+
+The morning had been showery, but towards twelve o'clock, the sun came
+out on a refreshed and beautiful world, and Heston said he was sure Dr.
+Arundel would consider it fine enough to drive.
+
+However, just as they were talking about it, the servant announced,
+"Mr. Vincent Linthorpe."
+
+And there was Mary's brother with a note for Ruth, and with Mr. Brown's
+packet for Dr. Brown.
+
+"Have you walked all this way?" asked Ruth, shaking hands.
+
+"I came on Arthur's bicycle. But I cannot say I did much but walk up
+these hills!"
+
+"No, indeed! It will be much better going down," laughed Ruth.
+
+"The view is worth it all though! I do not think I ever saw finer
+country."
+
+"We are very fond of it."
+
+"Mary has sent this note, and a message to say the wagonette will be
+here at half-past two; will that suit you?"
+
+"How very kind! I was planning how I could get Norman to Riverside, but
+have been so busy this morning that I have not ordered the fly. That
+did not matter, as the man who keeps them lives very near. You see, we
+are a little colony up here all to ourselves. A butcher, a general shop
+'with candles and other pickles,' including bread! and a tiny draper's.
+All else we have to 'shift' for."
+
+"What is 'shifting?'" asked Vincent, smiling.
+
+"Don't you know? We once had lodgings at an out-of-the-way seaside
+place, and when the butcher did not arrive with the meat, the landlady
+suggested, 'Can't you shift?'"
+
+"I see," said Vincent, laughing heartily; "but that is not pleasant if
+it happens often."
+
+"But it doesn't," said Ruth; "Morris and I are far too good managers
+for that!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+_AT THE FARM._
+
+PUNCTUALLY at half-past two, a wagonette and pair drove up at the front
+door of The Firs. Seated in it were Dr. and Mrs. Arundel and Vincent
+Linthorpe.
+
+Ruth had tried to coax her father to accompany them, but he said he was
+too old for that sort of thing, and he should be happier seeing after
+the patients.
+
+Ruth looked wistfully at him; he gave her a tender kiss, but would not
+be moved from his decision.
+
+Dr. Arundel placed them all in the seats which Mary and he had
+arranged. He told Heston he was sure he would like the box seat, and
+by the sparkle of Heston's eye, nobody doubted but that he had guessed
+right.
+
+Mala was packed in first, with Norman and Judith opposite to her, and
+then the rest got in and found themselves pleasantly disposed, the two
+gentlemen against the door, and the two girls opposite each other.
+
+"I call this nice!" said Mary, when the horses were fairly off.
+
+"How beautifully you have arranged us," said Ruth, with a glance
+towards the upper end. "They are so cosy there."
+
+Norman's eyes were watching everything with interest, and as he could
+not see the horses, or feel responsible in any way, he forgot to be
+nervous.
+
+Vincent produced some chocolates, which he passed up to the other end
+after offering them to Ruth and his sister. And under the influence of
+these, the little party began to be sociable.
+
+"We are going to have tea at a cottage," said Mary presently, when they
+had exhausted all the exclamations there were at the lovely scenery,
+the hills and valleys, the river winding in and out, and the blue
+distances crowned by the Welsh hills.
+
+"A cottage!" exclaimed Ruth. "Where?"
+
+"Ah! Where, indeed? Vincent has been scouring the country on Arthur's
+cycle this morning, and he has found a lovely sort of farm up ever so
+far in the hills, where we shall find tea, and bread and butter, and
+cream!"
+
+The horses were walking up a long hill at the moment, so Heston heard
+this part of the conversation.
+
+"Cream!" he echoed. "That's prime."
+
+"And under your seat, Heston, unless they have been left behind,"
+laughed Mary, "there are sundry cakes! The landlady at the farm looked
+askance at the idea of cakes at a moment's notice, so Vincent told her
+'we could buy up the confectioner's.'"
+
+"What 'did' she say?" asked Ruth, of Vincent.
+
+"She looked me up and down to see if I were a duke or somebody of the
+millionaire kind, and then she saw my eyes, and she laughed. 'All
+right; "you" see to the cakes and I'll see to the bread and butter,'
+was her final shot."
+
+After about an hour, they reached the farm, and they all got out. The
+cakes were found to be safe, and a man came forward to help with the
+horses.
+
+Wraps and coats were taken into the house, and the landlady told them
+where the best view of the mountains was to be obtained, "or they could
+go round the farm if they pleased, and see the creatures, as all the
+young folks likes to do."
+
+Heston decided on the latter plan, especially as the landlady had
+remarked that "there was their old pony that the young lady or
+gentleman could ride if they pleased."
+
+Judith's eyes brightened: it reminded her of India, and she went with
+Heston with more alacrity in her step than she had shown since her
+arrival.
+
+Ruth looked undecided whether to follow her charge or not, but Mary
+whispered, "Let them go, dearest, they will be safe with Heston; and,
+poor children, it must be very perplexing to have to see so many
+strangers!"
+
+"Yes," said Ruth, with filling eyes, "I am so sorry for them—and for
+myself!"
+
+"It will be better soon," said Mary.
+
+"Oh, yes, and it is all right even now; but sometimes, it seems to
+surge over me that the comfort of being alone is gone."
+
+"That will be better too, presently, when they go to school."
+
+Vincent and Dr. Arundel had been watching the horses put up, and now
+returned, and they all started to see the view.
+
+How lovely it was! Ruth held her breath as she stood silently gazing.
+
+"Doesn't it make you feel like heaven!" she said to Mary, in a low tone.
+
+But not so low but that Vincent caught it, and smiled. "I think so,
+too," he said, and then coloured at having seemed to intrude.
+
+"Vincent and I have always shared these sort of things together," said
+Mary, "and it seems strange for me to be away from him. Sometimes I can
+hardly believe it can be true."
+
+"I believe it, I can tell you," said Vincent, "for not one of the
+others is 'my' sister like Mary," he added, turning to Ruth. "Mary and
+I had no need to talk much, we understood without."
+
+"I have never had a sister or a brother," said Ruth, slowly. "Mary
+seems the nearest to it that I know, and she is—inexpressibly dear!"
+
+Vincent could quite believe it, as he knew what Mary was.
+
+"Well, I will go and see about tea," said Mary. "You come when you have
+had enough view!"
+
+She ran off, laughing, and Ruth wanted to help her, but Vincent said he
+must just show her a discovery he had made that morning, and invited
+Arthur to come and see it too.
+
+But Arthur said he was lazy, and meant to have a doze.
+
+So he led the way round the barn, and in another moment, he and Ruth
+came upon a bit of ivy-covered ruin, standing on the very edge of a
+sharp, precipitous piece of ground, which sank away down and down
+without a break right to some green meadows far beneath, where the cows
+and sheep looked like little red and grey dots.
+
+"There!" said Vincent. "How does that make you feel! Though, indeed, I
+must apologise for having spoken of what was not intended for my ears!"
+
+"Oh, never mind," said Ruth. "No, this has not the same feeling as that
+other view for me. I think this reminds me of earth more—and—do you
+think, one might say it reminded one a little of the twenty-third Psalm—
+
+   "'The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.'
+
+"It is so peaceful down there with those sheep."
+
+Vincent looked in silence after one glance at her face.
+
+"Yes, I think you are right," he answered, quietly.
+
+"I am going to find the children," said Ruth, after they had looked for
+a few moments. "I hear their voices quite near. Perhaps they are in
+this barn?"
+
+And there they were found, watching the milking of the cows with
+intense interest.
+
+"We are to have the pony after tea," said Heston, "the men were busy
+just now!"
+
+Oh, what a farmhouse kitchen that was! How their eyes went round and
+round, admiring the bright pewter plates and shining candlesticks on
+the high mantleshelf; and the low, latticed windows stretching the
+whole length of the southern wall, and open now on to the old-fashioned
+garden, where stocks and roses and Sweet Williams, lilac and guelder
+roses, made up the soft summer fragrance that seems to rest the spirit
+and speak of peace.
+
+Ruth could hardly bear to turn her eyes, even to the welcome tea.
+
+But Heston told her she must not go dreaming in daylight, and Vincent
+handed her a knife, and told her to cut Mary's cakes, and see if he had
+bought nice ones!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+_NORMAN'S SUPPER._
+
+AFTER tea, the pony was bridled, and the three Indian children enjoyed
+a ride. Heston tried it first and pronounced it very nice, but not
+quite up to his pony in India, and yielded it up to Judith, who was not
+so particular as to pony breed. She in her turn quickly yielded it to
+Norman, who stood looking longingly at the sleek little white creature,
+who was as quiet as a lamb, Judith said.
+
+So Heston lifted him up, and with promises not to let go, led him up
+and down the quiet lane for half an hour.
+
+"How kind he is!" said Ruth, looking after the party as they turned for
+the third time.
+
+"Very," responded Dr. Arundel; "in fact, I never saw such devotion as
+they all show."
+
+"Do you think 'massage' would do him good?" asked Ruth, rather shyly,
+drawing nearer to Dr. Arundel. "And if so, could I learn to do it? I
+think I could."
+
+"Quite easily," he answered.
+
+"I have not had time to speak to my father, yet," said Ruth, blushing
+as if she had been interfering, "but I keep on thinking of all the
+things that might help him. And being so much with my father, I pick up
+a few stray bits of information!"
+
+Arthur smiled. "Do not hesitate to tell us any suggestion. This is a
+case apparently of a purely nervous nature, and ordinary means will not
+be so likely to do good."
+
+Vincent and Mary had strolled on in front, and were going to see the
+ruin. And Ruth proposed that "as they had done their medical talk!" she
+and Dr. Arundel should follow them.
+
+At length, there seemed to be a great stir in the yard, with sounds of
+the horses being led out, and then one of the men came forward to ask
+if Dr. Arundel was ready to return.
+
+"Why, it is seven o'clock already!" exclaimed Vincent. "How quickly the
+time has gone."
+
+"That is better than its dragging," said Ruth. "I have not enjoyed
+anything so much since—oh, not for years! I only wish my father had
+come."
+
+They all packed into the wagonette again, and with pleasant farewells
+to their entertainers, the happy party turned homewards.
+
+
+When they reached The Firs, Mary and Dr. Arundel would not alight, but
+said they would be taken home at once. So with good-byes and earnest
+thanks from Ruth and Heston, there was great waving of hands and hats,
+and Ruth found herself standing on the steps in the soft evening light
+with her little family round her.
+
+"What shall we do next, Heston?" she asked, as they turned to the
+dining-room.
+
+"Oh, Ruth! Here is supper spread, and I am so hungry! Mrs. Arundel's
+tea was splendiferous, but I declare I could eat a—a haystack!"
+
+"You shall have something better than that! But I suppose farm talk
+will be the order of the day till the next excitement! Judith, what
+could you eat?"
+
+But Judith was too dignified to respond to the joke. She hardly
+answered, but acknowledged on being pressed by Heston that she should
+not mind some supper.
+
+Norman asked in his silent finger-talk to go to bed, and Ruth promised
+to bring him some supper when Mala came to announce his being ready.
+
+"'I' take him his supper," said Mala.
+
+Ruth glanced at her in surprise, and then said gently and firmly, "Let
+me know when he is ready, Mala," and took her place at the head of the
+table.
+
+Judith sat very silent, and evidently was uneasy. Mala had hitherto
+ruled them all, and it was too astonishing for anyone to rule Mala!
+
+Ruth saw what it involved, and inwardly quaked. Then she remembered
+that Mary had said, "In every difficulty, ask for counsel of God; He
+will help you."
+
+So she sat silent, thinking of Mary's advice, and trying to follow her
+in her straightforward desire to please God and do the next thing.
+
+At that moment, her father entered, and Heston was pleased to tell him
+all the delights of the day.
+
+"Judith," whispered Ruth, "would you go up and tell Norman what is on
+the table, and ask him what he would like best? You and I will take it
+up to him, while Mala has her supper."
+
+Judith's eyes looked grateful. She softly left the room, and then Ruth
+breathed more freely. She hoped the difficulty had blown over.
+
+At length, Judith came down, her face rather pale, and her eyes looking
+anxious again.
+
+"Norman would like some apple and custard," she said, hesitating, "but
+Mala says she is sure he cannot eat it without her, and she would
+rather stay and see to him—if you do not mind, Cousin Ruth."
+
+Judith added the last sentence in a beseeching tone.
+
+"I think you and I can manage," said Ruth.
+
+And then she went over and held a whispered conversation with her
+father, which resulted in his saying, "I'll see it through. If there is
+any trouble, just call me!"
+
+"But we have to think of Norman," whispered Ruth.
+
+"Indeed we have. I'll not forget that."
+
+So she and Judith and the apple and custard went up together.
+
+Norman was in bed, and Mala was seated by his side with a stony look on
+her face.
+
+"Take it in, dear," said Ruth, pausing at the door, "and tell Mala I
+want to speak to her."
+
+Ruth stood within view, silently waiting. And after a few moments, in
+which Judith had evidently whispered advice to Mala, the ayah got up
+slowly and glided to the door.
+
+Ruth stepped across to her own room, and then spoke in an undertone,
+which she feared was trembling, though there was no hesitation in her
+intentions.
+
+"Mala," she said, raising her eyes and looking full into the dark face,
+"if you wish to do Norman a kindness, and to remain here to attend
+upon him, you will have to do exactly as you are told! My father hopes
+we may be able to do him good, and make him happier than he has ever
+been—but remember what I have said."
+
+With a stately tread, Ruth passed the astonished ayah, and before she
+could recover her surprise, Ruth was already seated by her little
+cousin, asking him smilingly how "his" "haystack" tasted!
+
+How her heart was beating!
+
+But Norman responded with a bright look, and Judith waited upon him and
+put his food temptingly ready, and all went well.
+
+When at length he would take no more, Judith carried away his tray, and
+Ruth bent over him to wish him good-night.
+
+"Dear little boy," she said, lovingly. "I do love you! And I have
+thought of ever so many things that may do you good! You will trust me,
+will you not?"
+
+Norman squeezed her hand for Yes, and with a pleased look lay back on
+the pillows.
+
+When Judith returned, he took her hand eagerly and rapidly spelt out—
+
+"Ask her if she thinks I shall some day be able to talk?"
+
+"We have great hopes of it," said Ruth, tenderly, "if it is God's will."
+
+The child understood.
+
+"You know, Norman," Ruth added, "since I have begun to love Jesus, I
+pray about everything! So we can pray about this, and if God sees it is
+good for us, and best, He will give it to us!"
+
+Judith came close to Ruth's side, and put both her arms round her neck.
+
+"Oh, Cousin Ruth, Cousin Ruth," she whispered, with a sob, "I'll pray
+too, though—though—I never have before!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+_CONFIDENCES._
+
+WHILE these things were happening at The Firs, the wagonette was
+swiftly taking the rest of the party back to Riverside.
+
+When they got in, Dr. Arundel found there was a summons for him to go
+to a sick man some two miles in another direction. But the messenger
+had left word that any time that evening would do.
+
+"They are very considerate," he remarked, as they gathered round the
+supper-table. "But I am sorry to leave you both—"
+
+"So am I," said Vincent, who had been reading a letter which he had
+found on the mantelshelf, "for this is my last evening: Mr. Brown has
+written to recall me. He does not explain, but says the urgency of it
+justifies him in asking for my return; and that he will spare me again
+in a week or so if I like."
+
+"Oh, that is all right then!" exclaimed his sister. "We can look
+forward to that! You must come back, Vincent. This has not been a
+quarter long enough!"
+
+"It is very kind of you to wish it—but I hardly think I can come again
+so soon—" objected Vincent.
+
+"Do," exclaimed Arthur, heartily. "Arrange to spend a week with us.
+There is plenty to see, and to such a cyclist as you are, the Welsh
+mountains are within reach!"
+
+Vincent shook his head, but as if the prospect held out were very
+tempting.
+
+And then, when Arthur was gone and the twin brother and sister went
+into the drawing-room, Vincent sat in the twilight very silent.
+
+"You will come again soon, Vincent, will you not?" asked Mary, softly.
+
+"I don't know, Pollie—"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I do not suppose it would be of much use—"
+
+"Coming to see me, do you mean?"
+
+"You know I don't mean that, Pollie! But though I can't explain it, I
+never saw anyone before that I cared about in the least. And now I do
+care about—Ruth—and she—I do not suppose I could ever get her to care
+for me."
+
+"I do not see why not," said Mary, calmly. She knew Vincent well enough
+to be sure that he would not be ready to have any sympathy or gladness
+shewn him.
+
+"Pollie," he went on slowly, in such a smothered tone that she could
+hardly catch his words, "the moment I saw her, I felt my fate had come!"
+
+"Your fate?"
+
+"Well—whatever you like to call it! I wish it were not so, but—there it
+is."
+
+"Why do you wish it were not so?" she asked, surprise in her voice. It
+was getting too dark to see each other's faces.
+
+"Because, can't you see? She does not care for me, and just treats me
+as your brother and nothing else—"
+
+"But, Vincent, she cannot be supposed to guess at this—" exclaimed
+Mary, earnestly.
+
+He seemed to listen, and she went on.
+
+"Is there any other difficulty in the way?"
+
+"Yes—even if—even—should I be able to get her to think of it—I do not
+see how she could leave her father? He is all alone, and my work lies
+at Mr. Brown's, near home."
+
+"I see that; is there anything else?"
+
+"You agree with me that there is that insurmountable difficulty?" he
+said, quickly.
+
+"Not too fast! That would have to be considered. Is there anything
+else?"
+
+"She has been used to luxuries, and I could only give her a quiet
+little home—though I would try to make her happy."
+
+"That's nothing!" said Mary, promptly. "Any girl worth anything does
+not mind beginning quietly. Anything else?"
+
+"You've got a lot of questions ready, Pollie!" he exclaimed, laughing a
+little nervously. "You are a regular inquisitor!"
+
+"You know me of old," she said, "so I can't alter to please you now.
+The fact is, Vincent, it is just this! Do you mean to try to smother
+your feelings, or do you mean to try to win her?"
+
+Vincent was silent for a long time, and Mary said not another word. She
+was inexpressibly touched by his confidence, but how to tell him so she
+did not know. His communication had come as an intense surprise.
+
+At length, he stirred, and took hold of his sister's hand firmly.
+
+"You are not sorry, Pollie!" he said, hesitating a little.
+
+"Very, very glad, if it is for your happiness!"
+
+"You like her—you would do all you could, wouldn't you, Pollie?"
+
+"Why, Vincent, of course I should!"
+
+"Yes, yes! And now I've to go away, Pollie. It seems so hard."
+
+"I shall expect you back soon."
+
+"I'm afraid there is everything against me."
+
+"Do not be so faint-hearted, Vincent—I think there is everything in
+your favour!"
+
+"Then, besides all the rest, she is devoting herself to this little
+cousin—"
+
+"Oh, well, that is all as it should be. Why should she not? Perhaps he
+will get better, Vincent; do not look at the obstacles, but think now
+of the old days when things were too hard for us to manage, and try the
+old remedy in this new difficulty. If God has this joy in store for you
+by and bye, ask Him to make you ready for it when He sends it."
+
+He turned towards her, and kissed her softly. "Dear old Pollie, there's
+no one like you in all the world."
+
+"All the world?" she said, archly.
+
+"All the world," he reiterated; "all the world, at present."
+
+So Mary knew what the answer was to one of her questions, though she
+did not get it in so many words.
+
+The moonlight was streaming in at the window, and flooding the room
+with its tender light.
+
+"Let us go out, Pollie, unless you are tired?"
+
+"Oh, no. But I will just leave word where Arthur may find us."
+
+So they went down to the river's edge, and sat there talking of
+everything that concerned them, till after a long time all the church
+clocks struck ten, and they heard Arthur's footsteps coming along the
+gravel.
+
+"I shall not bind you down not to tell him, Pollie," said Vincent, "but
+if you don't mind, let it be when I am gone."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+_A PRESENT._
+
+"MY dear!" said Dr. Brown to his daughter, on the night of the picnic.
+"It will never do to have you sitting up late to talk to me, and yet we
+do want to be together, do we not?"
+
+"Indeed we do, father! We shall have to plan in some way to have a
+little time quiet. But that will be easy when we settle down."
+
+"I wanted to ask you something," said Dr. Brown, hesitating a little,
+and half turning away to the bookcase.
+
+"What is it?" asked Ruth, rather astonished. But so many astonishing
+things had happened within a week that she thought she should hardly be
+surprised at anything.
+
+"I have been thinking—" he said, slowly, "whether we ought not to begin
+prayers in the morning, now we have all these children here—and—now I
+feel so differently from what I used?"
+
+He turned back, and looked more boldly in her face, though the colour
+had deepened in his, and he seemed hardly able to bring out his words.
+
+"Oh, I am so glad!" exclaimed Ruth, heartily.
+
+"Are you? Then you will help me through with it?"
+
+"Of course I will! Why, it was only last Sunday that the curate said if
+people would begin it, they would find such a blessing."
+
+"Did he? Well, I'm convinced it is right, but the first step is such an
+effort."
+
+Ruth came over and leant her hands on his arm.
+
+"If I had a little book—it seems absurd to be shy over it, doesn't it?"
+he said, awkwardly, "but yet I am—"
+
+Ruth kissed him lovingly. "It is a great effort, but we shall be glad.
+How strange that the curate should mention it, was it not? He said
+that if people would read a few words from the Bible, and kneel down
+together and repeat the Lord's prayer slowly together, it would be a
+beginning, and would bring a great blessing."
+
+"We could do that," said Dr. Brown, looking relieved.
+
+"When shall we begin?" asked prompt Ruth.
+
+"To-morrow!" he answered, only waiting for her helpful acquiescence.
+
+"I'm sure it would be better," she said, heartily.
+
+"Then, tell Morris and the servants. Eight o'clock sharp, my dear."
+
+So Ruth wished him good-night, and then ran back again, and threw her
+arms round his neck. "You dear, dear father!" she whispered.
+
+
+All went well the next day. Dr. Brown looked rather pale when he came
+in at the sound of the bell, but he took his usual place at the table,
+and then looked round on the assembled family.
+
+"I did not think of this as a duty till lately," he said, "but I am
+sure we shall have God's blessing if we seek it. Let us each in our
+different ways try to find something in the morning portion that will
+help us all day."
+
+He opened the Bible where there was a mark, and read out in an
+impressive voice just the one verse,—
+
+   "'God commendeth His love towards us, in that while we were yet sinners
+Christ died for us.'"
+
+"Now let us repeat the Lord's Prayer together, petition by petition.
+There will be something in it—many things probably—that we all want.
+And let us think of it as we say the words, and may He answer our
+petitions for Christ's dear sake."
+
+The children, and Ruth and the servants, never forgot that prayer, nor
+the moved, broken voice of the master of the house, as he prayed with
+them for the first time.
+
+Then they all rose and left the room silently, and there were not a
+few tears winked away on the stairs as the servants sought their own
+quarters.
+
+"God bless him!" said old Morris to herself, as she went into her own
+room. "The Lord has been better to me than my fears! 'Mine eyes have
+seen His salvation!'"
+
+
+After breakfast, when Ruth and her father were having a talk over the
+treatment that should be begun for Norman, there was a ring at the
+bell, and Mr. Vincent Linthorpe was announced.
+
+He soon explained that he was called home sooner than he had expected,
+and had come to say farewell, and to ask if he could be the bearer of
+any letter or message to Mr. Brown.
+
+Dr. Brown said he should like to write a line, so Ruth proposed that
+they should leave him to do so while they found the others.
+
+No one was to be seen but Heston, who was sitting in the dining-room
+window deep in one of his uncle's books.
+
+"Where are they all?" asked Ruth.
+
+"Mala has taken them down that winding path along the hillside," said
+Heston. "I hope it will not be too far for Norman. She will go very
+slowly, I expect."
+
+"My father says you and I may go to Worcester to-day and see if we can
+get him a little invalid carriage for Mala to wheel him about in!"
+exclaimed Ruth. "Shall we go this morning, Heston?"
+
+"Oh, how jolly. Uncle is very kind! When shall we go?"
+
+"Soon," said Ruth, glancing towards their guest. "But there is no
+hurry, if you can stay a little time. I think you said you had to go
+directly, though?"
+
+"Directly," said Vincent. "My train is at 10.20. I pass through
+Worcester," he added, eagerly, "could we all go together?"
+
+"I daresay we could! I will run and ask my father if he has any other
+plans."
+
+She hastened away, and the other two stood looking after her.
+
+"She is going to do everything she can to get Norman better," Heston
+said, in a grateful tone.
+
+"Yes; it is so sad for him—"
+
+"Very. I little thought when it was arranged for us to come to England
+that we should find such kindness. I cannot speak of it, but I do feel
+it—"
+
+Ruth came tripping back. "We may go, Heston, and if Mr. Linthorpe can
+wait ten minutes, I shall be quite ready, and so will you?"
+
+Heston laughed. "I shall not be as long as that. But run away, Ruth, or
+you will not keep your promise."
+
+
+"I wish I could stop at Worcester with you," said Vincent, as they sat
+in the train.
+
+"I wish you could," answered Ruth, heartily, "for I feel it quite an
+undertaking to buy this little invalid carriage. My father has given me
+a picture out of one of his books, so I hope I shall manage."
+
+"What kind of thing is it to be?" asked Heston.
+
+"He is to be able to lie flat in it, so as to rest if he needs it, and
+yet he is to be able to sit almost upright in it."
+
+"I think I've seen them at the seaside," said Vincent.
+
+"Yes—and my father says we are all to go to the sea directly he can
+arrange it. He thinks that Norman ought to be out of doors all day
+long."
+
+"Shall you like that?"
+
+"To go to the sea? Oh, yes, I shall enjoy it intensely; especially if
+it does Norman good. But nothing is quite like these hills and views to
+'me.' But I shall enjoy the sea very much for a time."
+
+"I am so glad you like Mary, and that she has a friend in you!"
+exclaimed Vincent, as all too soon the train began to slow down outside
+Worcester.
+
+"She has done me all the good in the world!" said Ruth. "I never saw
+anyone like her."
+
+Vincent looked into the glowing face.
+
+"I'm more glad than I can say!" he said, heartily. "Good-bye. Mary says
+I may come back, as my visit has been cut short!"
+
+And then the train stopped. And in another moment, Ruth and Heston were
+lost to sight in the hurrying crowd on the platform.
+
+
+"Norman," said Ruth, when she and Heston had returned from Worcester,
+"I have brought you a present, and I want you to try to do something
+for me."
+
+She had found him alone for once, as Mala had gone down to get his tea.
+
+The bright eyes looked into her face questioningly, and then at the
+parcel in her hand.
+
+"See! You are so fond of living creatures that I thought this would
+give you pleasure. It is a dear little bullfinch, and I think you will
+be able to teach him all sorts of tricks."
+
+Norman took her hand, and kissed it. Poor little fellow, he had no
+words to express his feelings.
+
+She undid the wrappings, and there was the beautiful little bird,
+looking as perky and at home as possible.
+
+He hopped down to help himself to some seed, and Norman looked
+delighted.
+
+"Here is some hemp," pursued Ruth, "and soon he will come to take it
+off your finger. Let us try now."
+
+She pressed a seed into her finger and put it through the bars, but
+though Dickie looked at it very earnestly, and turned his head first
+on one side and then another, he was too strange to advance along the
+perch at present.
+
+"He will soon do it," said Ruth, well satisfied with their first
+attempt.
+
+"Now, Norman," she continued, "I'm going to tell you what I want you to
+do. Can you whistle?"
+
+Norman coloured, but shook his head. "Never mind! Some day when you are
+alone with Dickie you can try. You might teach him a tune, perhaps, by
+and bye."
+
+Then, as Norman's eyes still looked questioningly into hers, she added,
+"Yes, I have something else I want you to do. I want you, when you
+are alone with Dickie, to talk to him with your lips, as if you could
+speak."
+
+The child looked distressfully at her, but she went on gently—
+
+"I know you cannot—but I want you to act as if you could. When you feel
+inclined, you know! Just form your lips into the word, 'Dickie! Dickie
+here's your food!' And though you cannot make any sound, just persevere
+in doing that for me, will you?"
+
+She bent over him and kissed his cheek, and he looked into her eyes
+with a promise.
+
+"There is a dear little boy!" she exclaimed. "I knew you would be
+sensible enough to try to do what I wanted. We need not tell anyone
+else about it. I told my father of my thought for you, and he is
+pleased. We will not tell the others at present till you have learned
+to do it quite easily. I do hope it may help you."
+
+Norman kissed her hands again, and tried to make her understand, but at
+present she was not used enough to his finger-talking to do much in the
+way of communication. So she only kissed him lovingly in return. And at
+the moment Mala appeared with his tea-tray, and she hastened away to
+pour out for the rest.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+_ON THE DOORSTEP._
+
+THREE weeks later, Ruth and her cousins were established at the seaside.
+
+"A Furnished House." Yes, Dr. Brown had decided that that was the right
+thing, and Ruth, who had never been to a furnished house, and knew
+nothing of the cares of housekeeping, acquiesced at once. She supposed
+it would be all right.
+
+Certainly it gave her a pang to remember that Cook would not be there,
+and that Jane was not very clever at anything but housework! But she
+would have Morris with her to refer to, and she did want to learn
+"cooking and things."
+
+So, though Morris looked rather grave, they made their plans, the
+furnished house was taken, and in a very short time, they had begun
+their seaside life.
+
+To the Indian children it was unalloyed happiness. All day long they
+were out on the beach, or Heston was exploring the rocks and the
+cliffs. The invalid carriage was a great success, and Mala wheeled her
+charge about everywhere, Heston assisting very kindly when necessary.
+
+Norman was blissfully content. He lay and rested when he liked, or
+got out and sat on the sand or picked up shells. His colour had begun
+to improve, and Ruth could see that as the days went on, he attempted
+more, and began to look less pitiful.
+
+Twice each day she gave half an hour to his "massage" treatment, and
+while that was going on, she always sent Mala to help Jane in the
+household work.
+
+At first, Mala had strongly objected to leave him, making it as
+unpleasant for Ruth as she could.
+
+But Ruth had looked up, and said gravely, "Remember what I told you,
+Mala!"
+
+And the ayah, with a deep flush on her face, had turned away silently.
+
+Left there alone with her little cousin, Ruth devoted herself to making
+the time pass happily and brightly. Mary had reminded her that it was
+a precious opportunity, if she would only use it. And though Ruth had
+given one of her startled looks, when she came to think it over, she
+saw how true it was.
+
+So, while her hands were busy over her "massage," she talked to him, or
+told him simple stories from the Bible. She soon found that she must
+get ready a little story fresh from the Bible for each time. And while
+learning for him, she got to know more herself than she had ever known
+before.
+
+Understanding more of God's great love herself, she felt confidence
+that Norman would get to understand too.
+
+She was not disappointed. She was "letting him come to Jesus," as Mary
+said she always translated the words, "Suffer the little children to
+come unto ME."
+
+Yes, she was helping, and not hindering, and a flood of joy came into
+her heart as she saw that Norman was drawing near, and learning to look
+up in his Saviour's face, and stand, as it were, within His loving arms.
+
+It would be difficult to say how Ruth knew that it was so, but she did.
+The child's eyes had lost their weary, dissatisfied look, and as she
+talked to him, he would drink in every word as if his thirst were being
+quenched.
+
+As she became more used to understanding him, when he talked on his
+fingers, he began to express his feelings more, until one day, when
+she had finished her "treatment," and was just clearing up, he caught
+her hand in his, and kissing it tenderly, he spelt out, "Thank you for
+telling me about Jesus; I do love Him!"
+
+When Ruth had kissed him in return, and told him how very, very glad
+she was, she ran away to her own room.
+
+She knelt down by her bed, but only tears would come and broken
+thanksgivings.
+
+"And I grudged having them!" she thought. "And yet God has been so good
+to me as this!"
+
+Day by day during these happy weeks for her cousins, Ruth watched her
+own especial charge with loving, observant eyes.
+
+His bird was almost as great a pet as his mice, and he was eager to
+teach him any trick which he could hear of, watching by his cage on
+rainy days for hours and hours, patiently getting him to eat from his
+hand, or come out on the table to take his bath.
+
+
+One day, when she happened to come into the room unexpectedly, she
+found Norman alone, and he looked up eagerly and nodded to her
+confidentially.
+
+"You are doing what I suggested?" she asked, whispering.
+
+He nodded again, and then spelt on his fingers, "I can do it much
+better now!"
+
+So Ruth was very content, and hailed every sign of improvement with
+great joy.
+
+But Morris feared that, however good this seaside change was for the
+children, the housekeeping cares were more than her dear young lady
+had in her inexperience expected, and she thought she was growing thin
+under her new work.
+
+"Well!" said the old housekeeper to herself, as she often did many
+times a day. "The Lord knows, and I don't! He can see to it!" And thus
+her burden rolled off once again.
+
+
+One Saturday, Ruth was expecting her father to spend the week-end with
+them, and when the children were safely off to the beach with Mala, and
+Heston had started on a long walk, she betook herself to the kitchen
+and looked round.
+
+Her father liked pastry, and she had often wished to try her hand at
+it, but hitherto had been too busy.
+
+"Morris, do you think I 'could' make a pie?" she asked.
+
+"Why, yes, dearie. I could sit by you and tell you. The Doctor would be
+pleased."
+
+But just as Ruth was beginning, she found that she had not ordered the
+requisite fruit, and Jane was quickly despatched to get some at the
+nearest shop.
+
+"Nobody will come to the door in those few moments," she said to
+Morris, who had a cold, and was sitting by the fire nursing it. "And if
+they do—I can open it, I suppose!"
+
+Morris smiled. How her childie was growing, to be sure.
+
+But Jane had no sooner whisked off down the road, than a ring came to
+the front door, followed by a decided rat-tat-tat.
+
+"Eleven o'clock!" said Ruth, looking at the clock, and dusting off the
+flour from her white fingers. "Who can it be, Morris, at this time of
+the morning."
+
+She hurried to the door, and there stood Vincent Linthorpe, holding a
+Gladstone bag in his hand, and with a look of apology in his face.
+
+"Dr. Brown sent me with a note," he said, "May I come in?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" said Ruth, opening the door wide. "I was so taken by
+surprise. I am sorry if I looked astonished."
+
+Vincent smiled slightly. "The fact is, I called at The Firs last night
+to see you all, and I found you flown. Dr. Brown told me he thought of
+coming here to-day for the week-end, and that I might come and tell you
+he would be here about three."
+
+"That is sooner than I thought—"
+
+"Yes—so he bade me say. I will go and deposit my bag at the hotel, and
+then—may I come back?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" said Ruth, thinking of her pie and her dinner still uncooked.
+
+"I am afraid it may not be convenient?" said Vincent, hesitating.
+
+"Oh, yes it is. I am only making my first pie, and I was wondering if
+it would be eatable."
+
+"'That' does not matter!" he said. "I wanted to see you,
+because—because I am going abroad!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+_HOUSEKEEPING._
+
+"COME in!" said Ruth, stepping back and proceeding to lead the
+way to the dining-room. Then, looking up in his face, she added,
+questioningly, "You seem sorry? Is it not what you want to do?"
+
+"I do not think I do," he answered slowly, putting his bag in a corner
+and following her in; "it has been such a sudden thing that I hardly
+know whether I am sorry or glad."
+
+"That must be perplexing," she answered; "but did—was there not a
+choice given you?"
+
+"Not exactly; Mr. Brown, your father's cousin, you know, thought it
+such a wonderful opportunity for me, that he took it for granted I
+should go. It will be two years before I return."
+
+Ruth saw that it was a trouble to him, but though she would have been
+glad to console, she hardly knew what to say. Oh, why was not Mary
+here, who always knew the right thing to comfort people?
+
+"You will be glad of it afterwards," she ventured, gently.
+
+"You think I shall?" he answered, eagerly.
+
+"I know I have been about these children," she said. "I felt so badly
+about their coming, and Mary and our good old housekeeper, Morris, both
+told me God could turn the seeming hard things into good, if we would
+trust Him."
+
+Vincent looked into her face earnestly.
+
+"You are right," he said. "We ought to be able to trust, but—" he
+paused.
+
+"Mary would say," said Ruth, "that we must take the 'but' to God, and
+let Him turn it into 'best.'"
+
+"I will try to let Him," said Vincent, in a voice that somehow sounded
+unlike his ordinary one. Ruth wondered, and then, as he took his hat in
+his hand as if to go, she said pleasantly:—
+
+"Will you come back and eat some of my pie at lunch-time? It will be
+our dinner, for we are very primitive here."
+
+"I should like it of all things," he answered. "But here is Dr. Brown's
+note. I had forgotten that."
+
+So Vincent departed with his bag, promising to return in due time, Ruth
+giving full instructions as to the direction of Heston's walk, and
+begging her visitor not to lose himself searching for him.
+
+She went back to Morris and her pie with her thoughts very full of
+Mary's brother, and of wonder as to what should make him so very loth
+to go to New York when the opportunity was thought to be so very good.
+
+True to the time, the three from the beach duly turned up, followed
+very soon by Heston and Vincent.
+
+Ruth's dinner passed off very satisfactorily. Her pie, thanks to
+Morris's clever instructions and Ruth's dainty carrying of them out,
+was all that could be desired, and Heston and the children did not
+spare their praises. Vincent said he did not expect anything else,
+which made Heston laugh and ask if that were intended for a compliment
+or otherwise.
+
+Then he and Vincent volunteered to meet Dr. Brown at the Junction,
+going by the cliff, which Heston said was a lovely walk.
+
+They both tried to persuade Ruth to go too, but though she would have
+dearly liked to have the walk, she said she had housekeeping duties to
+perform, and gladly saw them start, and to be left free for a little
+while.
+
+"You are tired, dearie," said Morris, when she brought her an early cup
+of tea.
+
+"No-o," said Ruth, "I do not know that I am; but I think, Morris, if I
+had been more used to doing things, I should not find it quite such a
+task!" She sighed a little wearily.
+
+"I do not think any of us quite realized what a 'Furnished House'
+meant, dearie! But this is one way of 'learning to do things,' as you
+wished, isn't it?"
+
+"I suppose it is," said Ruth, "but I would rather have learned quietly
+with you at home, Morris."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+_A PARTING._
+
+"WELL, my dear!" said Dr. Brown that evening. "Now tell me all about
+everything."
+
+"I do not think there is much to tell more than I have said in my
+letters. Have I not been very good in writing, father?"
+
+"Very good! I shall be glad when you are at home again. But the child
+looks worlds better!"
+
+"Oh, he is, and so is Judith. She is getting much more sociable, too."
+
+"And Mala?"
+
+"Mala is—better," answered Ruth, hesitating a little as to what word
+to choose. "Morris is so good to her, and every day I read them all a
+little piece out of the Gospels, and do you know, father, Mala begins
+to listen!"
+
+"That is good news! Ruth, you and I must go to church together
+to-morrow. I have no patients here; and, indeed, I sometimes think I
+might have managed it even at home."
+
+Ruth's sparkling eyes were an answer. "Oh, I am so glad!" she exclaimed.
+
+
+So Sunday dawned, and Vincent came early to have as much time with them
+as possible. He could only stay till the middle of Monday, and every
+moment he could spend with Ruth was precious in his eyes.
+
+The day was one of cloudless beauty, and they all felt it to be one of
+cloudless happiness too.
+
+Dr. Brown said he had not been so happy for years, and Ruth looked
+round on the bright faces of those she called "her family," and could
+not be but thankful for what she saw there.
+
+The hours seemed to pass very quickly to them all, and Vincent counted
+each one with a sort of pang. Could it be possible that he would have
+to say good-bye to-morrow?
+
+
+And then Monday came. As early as they could, they all went out on
+the beach together, and wandered among the rocks till it was time for
+Vincent to go to his train. He had sent his bag by the omnibus which
+conveyed Dr. Brown to the station for his train the other way, while
+Vincent proposed to walk over the cliffs to the Junction to take an
+express train northwards.
+
+Heston offered to accompany him, but to his surprise Vincent
+answered in a low tone, meant for his ear only, "I would rather go
+alone—unless—I thought I would ask your cousin if she would walk a
+little way with me. She has not seen the cliffs—and it is my last time."
+
+Of course, Heston said "All right." And when he saw Vincent asking Ruth
+to go, he drew the others off to see a new boat, in the building of
+which they were much interested.
+
+When at length they all looked up, the other two were but specks along
+the cliffs.
+
+"Is Ruth gone?" asked Judith, looking rather forlorn.
+
+"Then you would rather she were here?" asked Heston, with a slight
+smile.
+
+"Ye-es," hesitated Judith.
+
+"I'm glad you have got as far as that!" said Heston, bluntly. "You have
+been slow in doing her justice after all her kindness!"
+
+"I'm not!" said Judith. "I 'never' am nasty to her now! Surely you have
+seen that, Heston? I always try to do what she says, and I get Mala to,
+as well."
+
+Heston considered. "I believe you do," he said, heartily, taking his
+little sister's hand in his, and turning homewards.
+
+"But why has she gone?" persisted Judith. "It will be quite dull
+without her."
+
+"Vincent wanted a walk with her, I think."
+
+But the figures were now obscured by the jutting cliff, and Judith
+looked after them in vain.
+
+
+The two walked on quickly at first. Ruth thought that there was not
+much time, and Vincent thought that each rapid step brought him nearer
+to what he seemed unable to bear.
+
+"There is no hurry," he said at last. "I have plenty of time for my
+train."
+
+They were talking on indifferent subjects, chiefly about Norman's
+progress in strength and vitality, and Ruth said how she wished his
+father could see him before he died. To all of which Vincent listened
+with downcast face and heavy heart.
+
+When they reached the summit of the cliff, Vincent paused as if to look
+for the last time at the wonderful view of sea and sky, and Ruth began
+to gather some of the grasses and poppies which grew in profusion at
+their feet.
+
+"I shall never forget this walk," said Vincent, as they walked on.
+
+"It is beautiful," said Ruth; "only I am sure you are sad because
+you have to leave England. I am sorry, but that does not make it any
+better, does it?"
+
+Vincent's answer was smothered.
+
+She thought he said something about "it did make a difference," but she
+could hardly catch his meaning, so she remained silent, wishing she
+could do something to make his evident pain less.
+
+And then Vincent saw the roof of the Junction peeping out from between
+some trees, and he knew that he must say "good-bye."
+
+He held out his hand. "You must not come any further," he said
+hoarsely. "I do not know how to say good-bye! It is not only leaving
+England and home—that is bad enough—but to leave you—"
+
+"Me?" questioned Ruth, surprised, and almost dismayed by his agitated
+words.
+
+"Will you—will you remember me when I am far away?" he asked, looking
+in her face.
+
+"I—of course I shall remember you," she said hastily; "how could I do
+anything else? Besides, you are Mary's brother!"
+
+"Only Mary's brother?" he asked, dropping her hand suddenly.
+
+"I meant that I have always heard so much of you from Mary that I
+seemed to know you before you came."
+
+There was a distant whistle of the train, loud and shrill.
+
+"I must go now!" he exclaimed. "Oh, Ruth, say one kind word to me
+before I go."
+
+"I do not know how," said Ruth, with her eyes full of tears.
+
+He caught her hand again without looking at her, and thus they parted.
+
+Vincent strode on to the station.
+
+And Ruth stood looking after him till she saw the steam of the train
+coming over the trees, when with slow and faltering steps she made her
+way home, wondering vaguely what had happened to make her heart so very
+heavy.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+_GOOD NEWS._
+
+AS Ruth entered her home, she felt as if it was all very forlorn and
+desolate.
+
+Her father gone; Mary's brother displeased and disappointed; the
+household cares on her shoulders more than she knew how to manage and
+cope with! All things seemed against her.
+
+She went upstairs to take off her hat, and sat down by the window and
+buried her face in her hands. It was silly to cry, she thought, and yet
+she felt utterly spent and forlorn.
+
+A soft step on the carpet startled her, and almost before she could
+raise her head, two tender little arms were flung round her neck, and
+kisses and tears touched her cheek, as Norman mutely asked her what was
+the matter.
+
+She took him on her lap, and told him "It was nothing; she was only
+tired, and rather lonely."
+
+And the child gazed wistfully in her face, and once or twice his lips
+moved as if he would speak to her.
+
+For a moment, Ruth's heart stood still, and then her tears fell faster
+than ever, as she pressed him to her, and murmured that "she would be
+better directly, and he must not mind; she was sorry he had seen her
+cry!"
+
+The child stroked her face and smoothed her hair for a little while,
+and when he saw that she seemed quieter, he slipped off her lap and
+went to her little table. On it lay the Bible from which she had been
+reading to him that morning. It lay open at the place, as Norman saw,
+of the picture of Christ stilling the storm which she had shown him
+there.
+
+He seemed searching for something, and Ruth had time to dry her eyes
+and try to collect her thoughts as to the next thing that she had to do.
+
+At that moment, Norman came back to her side, laid the book on her
+knees, and pointed with his finger to one of her marked verses, and her
+eyes fell upon the words:
+
+   "'Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.'"
+
+"Oh, Norman!" she exclaimed. "Have you turned my little comforter?"
+
+"Yes," he said softly.
+
+She heard the word distinctly, and though she gave a start of joy, she
+only clasped her arms round him gently and lovingly.
+
+"You have done me good, darling," she whispered. "I never thought when
+I read you those words about the storm that I should so soon feel as if
+I were in a storm, 'toiling in rowing, and the wind contrary.' But if
+Jesus comes to us walking on the water, we shall be glad of the storm
+afterwards that brought Him so near!"
+
+With another murmured "Yes," and a tight clasp round her neck, Norman
+took her hand and led her to the door, for the dinner-bell was ringing,
+and the rest would be waiting.
+
+Trembling with gladness and thankfulness, Ruth went down. She would
+have given a great deal to speak to Heston, but her fear of doing harm
+to Norman made her instantly decide to take no notice whatever of his
+recovered speech.
+
+Heston looked at her once or twice as if he could not understand her
+face. It was so touching in its tenderness and joy, though he could see
+that she had shed many tears. He, however, did his best to enliven the
+party, and waited till he should hear the explanation, if explanation
+there were.
+
+Mala fetched Norman directly after dinner for his ride in his invalid
+carriage, and Judith went with them.
+
+Ruth helped them off, and, as usual, wished her little cousin good-bye
+before he started.
+
+She took the opportunity to whisper brightly, "I am all right now,
+Norman! Thank you for pointing out those sweet words to me!"
+
+And with a loving look from Norman in return, the little carriage moved
+on, Mala being impatient to set out.
+
+"Heston!" said Ruth, as she went back. "Come into the garden; I want to
+speak to you."
+
+"Is anything wrong, Cousin Ruth?" he asked quickly.
+
+"No, no! Everything is right. I only got a fit of home-sickness or
+something. Heston! Norman came in and found me crying, and tried to
+comfort me—and—he spoke! He said two words, quite distinctly!"
+
+"Cousin Ruth!"
+
+"Yes, he did. I know I was not mistaken; but I took no notice. Oh,
+Heston, Heston! How shall we thank God?"
+
+"I cannot believe it yet," said Heston, colouring with excitement. "Are
+you 'sure?'"
+
+"Perfectly sure. Now, Heston, we must just go on as if nothing had
+happened. I shall only tell dear old Morris. The rest must be content
+to wait for the happy news till he speaks again. Of course I shall
+write to my father by this post."
+
+Heston sat as if lost in amazement. "Cousin Ruth," he exclaimed, at
+length, "it is all owing to you!"
+
+"No, no! Ever since Norman came, I have asked God to give the blessing
+to our efforts. Heston, it is just that He has guided to the means."
+
+When Norman came home from his ride, he looked very cheerful, but he
+appeared not to remember the wonderful events of the morning. The only
+difference in his manner was that he kept close to Ruth's side, looking
+wistfully in her face, and seeming to ask over and over again whether
+all was right with her.
+
+It was not till she was doing her evening "massage" that anything
+special happened.
+
+As usual, Ruth was chatting to him, telling him any little bits of news
+or of interest she had been able to save up for his benefit, when he
+quietly looked up in her face and said gently, "I think my speech has
+come back, Cousin Ruth! Will you kneel down and tell the Lord Jesus how
+much I thank Him?"
+
+Ruth dropped on her knees by his side, and she clasped her arms round
+him, while he, with shining eyes whispered a loving "thank you" after
+her few earnest words.
+
+"I wasn't sure," he said presently, as she went on with his massage. "I
+could hardly believe it this morning. But when they left me alone with
+Dickie-bird, I tried to speak to him, and I found I could! I don't want
+them all to come kissing and fussing, Cousin Ruth. Only you tell them,
+and say they can tell God how glad they are—because I don't think I can
+bear it yet."
+
+His lip trembled.
+
+"I am sure you cannot, dear. Nobody but Heston need know yet, if you
+would rather not."
+
+"No—" he said, "that would seem unkind. If Mala might just put me to
+bed before she knows, I think I shall be all right. Only it makes me
+tremble—in a sort of way—as if it might go away again—"
+
+"But," she said tenderly, "when you tremble, you can say to yourself,
+'If God my Father has given me this blessing, He can keep it for me by
+His power!'"
+
+"So He can!" said Norman, with a grateful glance. "I forgot that."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+_DISMAY._
+
+"MALA," said Ruth, when the ayah came down from putting Norman to bed,
+"I want to speak to you."
+
+Mala glided into the room, surprise and a little fear in her glance.
+
+"Mala," said Ruth, putting her hand on the servant's shoulder, "I want
+to know if you can be trusted to keep to yourself what I am going to
+tell you?"
+
+"I think I can, missie—now," Mala answered, in a heartier tone than she
+had ever spoken in before.
+
+"Will you promise me that you will not speak to Norman about what I am
+going to tell you, till you have my father's permission?"
+
+"Yes, missie, I promise. Mrs. Morris has been telling me about Christ
+loving me, and I feel different from when I came. And, missie, you've
+been so good to my child—"
+
+"It is about him I want to speak to you," said Ruth, with glistening
+eyes, as her heart rose in thanksgiving for this added joy of Mala's
+change.
+
+"Yes, missie?"
+
+"We want you to know, and your great devotion to him makes us tell you,
+that we have great hopes that he has recovered his speech."
+
+Mala's intent look was her only answer.
+
+"But," pursued Ruth earnestly, "it is most important that, as it has
+been a nervous affection, nothing should now be said to him by anyone.
+If he were to be overpowered by congratulations and questions, I fear
+it might bring back his dumbness. Can you understand this?"
+
+Mala nodded eagerly, and then said, "But 'has' he spoken, missie?"
+
+So Ruth explained, and told her she could learn all particulars from
+Morris. And then, telling her how very glad she was about what she had
+said, Ruth heartily shook her hand and dismissed her, desiring her to
+send Judith to her at once.
+
+A happy, grateful party went to bed that night under the roof of "The
+Furnished House!"
+
+
+The next morning at breakfast, a telegram was brought in for Ruth.
+
+It was from her father, asking her to come home at once for a few
+hours, as Dr. Arundel and he wished to hear all particulars.
+
+All was bustle to find the next train, and to get Ruth off, and Heston
+and Judith flew about till it was time for her and Heston to start for
+the train.
+
+Just as she was ready, Norman came down the stairs, holding Mala's hand.
+
+Ruth looked in his face, and saw all was right there.
+
+He nodded to her, and then whispered in her ear, "Mala hasn't kissed me
+and fussed, but I think she knows it."
+
+"She promised she would not," whispered Ruth back, "but she is very
+glad."
+
+So she sped after Heston, who was waiting outside.
+
+"Heston!" she exclaimed. "He has spoken quite naturally to me again,
+but in a whisper. Oh, I am so thankful!"
+
+
+It was only an hour's journey, and soon Ruth found herself in her own
+familiar High Street, and opposite Riverside.
+
+She could not pass Mary's door without getting her sympathy in the joy
+which she had to tell.
+
+For a moment she thought of Vincent, but, after all, the remembrance of
+that unsatisfactory parting, so sorrowful on both sides for different
+reasons, would have to be lived through. Ruth determined never to
+mention it, and she doubted if Mary would, even if she heard of it,
+which did not seem likely.
+
+So she rang the door-bell, and the maid told her Mrs. Arundel was in
+the drawing-room.
+
+She hung her hat in the hall, and after her usual little knock, Ruth
+peeped in with a smiling, "I have come, Mary, but it is to bring you
+good news of Norman—"
+
+To her dismay, Mary was sitting on the sofa, with her head buried in
+the cushions, in what looked like an abandonment of grief.
+
+"Mary!" said Ruth fearfully, coming over to her side. "Mary, darling,
+what is it?"
+
+The corner of a letter peeped out from her lap, and Ruth guessed the
+post must have brought bad news.
+
+But Mary's shoulder was withdrawn from the light touch of Ruth's gentle
+little hand.
+
+"Can you not tell me?" she asked at length.
+
+"You would not understand," said Mary.
+
+"Understand what?" asked Ruth.
+
+But something in Mary's tone, different from anything she had ever
+heard from her before, made her heart sink, and stilled her inquiries.
+Was it, after all, to do with Vincent?
+
+"Tell me, dear Mary," she implored, after what seemed a dreadful pause,
+in which Mary's sobs were the only sound. "It will be far better to
+tell me, then I can at least try to comfort you."
+
+"There is no comfort," said Mary, with stiff lips, sitting up and
+brushing away her tears. "If you do not care for him, that is the end
+of it. But oh, my poor Vincent!"
+
+"But I—didn't know—did not expect—it was all so sudden. Mary, why did
+he not let me know before; I never guessed he had set his heart on it
+till the last moment, and even now I hardly know what he meant."
+
+"He is gone now," said Mary, weeping again. "I never thought, as I
+parted from him on Saturday, when he was coming to you, that you would
+treat him so."
+
+"How 'so'?" said Ruth, turning pale. "Did I do anything that was unkind
+or untruthful?"
+
+"I daresay not," answered Mary wearily; "but, all the same, Vincent is
+gone to America with a sore heart, and nothing that anyone can do can
+make it otherwise."
+
+Ruth's lips took that little proud look which Mary had not seen since
+the time of her estrangement with her father.
+
+"Now I have hurt you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms round Ruth's
+neck. "Oh, forgive me for being so grieved. You cannot help it that you
+do not love him. But there is no one like Vincent in my eyes, and I
+thought—I hoped that you would find it out."
+
+"I was so taken by surprise," whispered Ruth, caressing her friend. "Do
+not be so sorry, dear Mary. Perhaps he will be comforted soon; and,
+indeed, I did not mean to be unkind."
+
+"I am sure of that," said Mary, rousing herself, and looking in the
+tearful, burning face of her little friend.
+
+And then the two girls were startled by hearing Dr. Brown's voice in
+the hall, and Arthur's answering eagerly, "She is here; how glad I am,
+for we can both see her and hear the good news together."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+_INTERRUPTED._
+
+RUTH and Mary sprang up and tried to compose their countenances as well
+as they could in the moment's pause while the gentlemen hung up their
+hats.
+
+But the two doctors were so intent on the little patient, and on all
+they had to hear, that they hardly noticed anything amiss. If Arthur
+thought Mary had been crying, he concluded that it was in sympathy with
+the touching particulars of the child's recovery.
+
+So Ruth had to tell it all over again from the beginning, and great was
+the rejoicing at every detail of the news.
+
+At length Arthur said to Ruth, "Do you think he should remain at Sandy
+Cove, or come home now?"
+
+Ruth looked at her father, but as he did not speak she answered slowly,
+"I had thought—"
+
+"Well? Do tell us!" said Arthur.
+
+"I had thought that we had better remain another week, and perhaps by
+that time, he will have got used to speaking to us. I think it would be
+a pity to disturb the present associations till he has confidence in
+himself. Is that what you think?" she asked, looking from one doctor to
+the other.
+
+"It is a pity you are not in the profession!" smiled her father. But
+he got up and kissed her forehead. "That was only my fun! You have a
+wonderfully wise little head, my dear!"
+
+So the doctors went off, and Ruth, with rather a sorrowful face, turned
+to Mary.
+
+"I am going up to The Firs to fetch a few things," she said, "so I must
+wish you good-bye."
+
+"Will you not return to lunch, or tea, Ruth? You are not going to leave
+me—like this?"
+
+Ruth coloured deeply. "I think I shall go home first, dear Mary, and if
+I have time, I will run in about half-past three o'clock, just before
+my train."
+
+Mary was obliged to let her go, and Ruth walked back to the station and
+took a fly. She felt as if she could not drag herself up those long
+hills to-day.
+
+Dr. Brown had told the servants to expect her, so she found a welcome.
+And after talking to cook for a little while, she sat down to her
+solitary lunch.
+
+It was only just over when the cook sent up word that she would like to
+speak to her.
+
+"Miss Ruth!" she said, when Ruth had sent for her. "Do you think master
+would let me come down to Sandy Cove and stay with you till you come
+home? I could cook for you, and I'm sure you look quite over-done with
+it all! It's a lot to see to, and then it isn't as if you understood
+how to do things yet! How should you? In another year or two, you will
+know a lot more things. 'Do' let me, dear Miss Ruth!"
+
+Ruth was very near bursting into tears. "But my father?" she said. "He
+would be uncomfortable."
+
+"Oh, no, miss! The parlourmaid says she can manage beautifully, and
+there's my sister—James's wife, you know—at the cottage. She says
+she'll run in of a morning and look round—I've been to see her to ask
+her to do so after I'd sent in your lunch."
+
+"Oh, cook, it would be the greatest comfort!"
+
+"Then if master agrees—you might telephone to him, couldn't you, Miss
+Ruth?" she added coaxingly.
+
+So Ruth telephoned, and Dr. Brown acquiesced at once, only thankful
+that some relief had come to what he saw was too great an undertaking
+for his little daughter.
+
+It was past three o'clock before Ruth, with cook and her little box,
+took their seats in the fly to go down to the station. They would have
+half an hour to spare in which cook would do a little shopping, and
+Ruth repaired to Riverside with beating heart, hardly knowing how she
+could bear to meet Mary again that day.
+
+But Mary was one who set a thing right at once if it were possible. The
+moment Ruth entered, she ran to her with out-stretched hands.
+
+"Dear Ruth!" she said lovingly. "You caught me at an unlucky moment
+this morning. I had not had time to recover my disappointment or I
+should not have blamed you as I did. In fact, I had no business to
+blame you! Will you forgive me?"
+
+Ruth kissed her warmly, but though she tried she could not get out a
+word.
+
+"The tea is ready, have you time for a cup?" asked Mary.
+
+"Thank you," said Ruth, "I think I have. If I leave here at five
+minutes to four—"
+
+Mary saw that she was not ready for any private talk. The same set
+look was in her face, and though she spoke of Norman and of Mary's
+interests, Vincent's name was never mentioned.
+
+"We are coming back in a week, I hope," she said as she rose to go.
+
+"Oh, I am glad. I have missed you terribly."
+
+"And so I have you!" exclaimed Ruth. "Oh, Mary! Do not cast me off
+because of this!"
+
+"Cast you off! Is it likely?"
+
+And then Ruth went.
+
+And Mary sat down and cried as she had not cried for years. Thus Arthur
+found her on his return from his patients.
+
+"My poor Mary!" he said, after he had drawn out the whole story from
+her. "It is a very bad bit for you to go through, but do not forget the
+Anchor!"
+
+"The anchor?" asked Mary, leaning her head on his shoulder and feeling
+inexpressibly comforted by his sympathetic, hopeful tone.
+
+"Yes; the anchor which used to comfort me in the years when I was not
+sure whether I should ever get a certain little Mary!"
+
+"Oh! And what was it, Arthur. Perhaps it will do me good—and Vincent—"
+
+"The anchor was this:
+
+   "'My times are in Thy hand.'
+
+"There I rested, and the anchor held fast even in the storm! Write to
+Vincent, and tell him from me that there's nothing like 'committing our
+way' to God to find it 'brought to pass'!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+_BY THE WINDOW._
+
+THE first sight that met Ruth as she looked out of the train at the
+Sandy Cove Station was Judith's little figure standing on the platform.
+
+When she met her eyes, however, she saw, to her great relief, that
+nothing was wrong. Gladness beamed there instead of the usual grave
+patience.
+
+"He has spoken to me!" exclaimed Judith, linking her arm in her
+cousin's as they turned out of the station.
+
+"He has?"
+
+"Yes, I could not exactly believe it before," said Judith
+apologetically. "It seemed so impossible! But it happened like this,
+Cousin Ruth—"
+
+"Do tell me!"
+
+"Mala had one of her dreadful headaches, and she had to go to bed. So I
+sent Jane out in the garden to lead Norman about while I did the two or
+three little things I had promised you."
+
+"Oh, they could have been left, dear, if you were busy."
+
+"I knew you would wish that—but you see, Jane does sometimes help him,
+so I thought it would be all right; and she is so kind. And then,
+Cousin Ruth, when I peeped out of the window at them, he appeared to be
+prattling away to her quite naturally."
+
+"Oh, how lovely!" exclaimed Ruth.
+
+"Yes; do you know, after that, I could not do a thing more! I just
+cried, I was so thankful! And then I thought I would finish your
+dusting quickly, and I could hardly see what I was doing, I was so
+glad. But I had to stop crying, or Norman would have guessed. So when
+I had done all you asked me, I put on my shady hat and ran down the
+garden.
+
+"'I've done, Jane,' I called, 'and if you will get Norman's carriage
+out here, we will sit in the shade and I will read to him.'
+
+"Jane went to fetch it with such a joyful look in her face, and we
+helped him to get in, and then she wheeled him under the trees, and
+I sat down to find the place in your book. I could not make out just
+where you had left off, and Norman raised himself on his elbow and said
+eagerly, 'It's just there! I know it was the end of a chapter!'
+
+"So I thought of what you said, Cousin Ruth, and I answered quite
+quietly, 'Oh, yes, so it is.'
+
+"And after that, he spoke to me when he had anything to say, just as if
+he had been talking all these years!"
+
+Ruth pressed the little hand which clung to her arm.
+
+"I was never so happy!" said Judith. "Oh, Cousin Ruth, to think that I
+hated to come to England, and was so horrid to you when I first came!"
+
+"All that is past, dear," said Ruth, affectionately; "but here we are
+at home, and there is Norman at the window with Jane."
+
+Of course, everyone was surprised to see cook, and delighted too. Jane
+took her off to introduce her to the kitchen, while Ruth sought Morris
+to hear all that had been done in her absence.
+
+Morris glanced at her dear young lady several times, as if to make sure
+that all was right, but Ruth answered the look by a gentle kiss.
+
+"Morris," she said, hesitating, "I have been rather troubled by
+something—something Mrs. Arundel told me—but I shall be all right
+to-morrow I hope. I am tired now; do not worry over me."
+
+"No dearie," answered her old friend, softly.
+
+So they sat down to a late tea, and everybody talked but Norman. He
+seemed content to watch the others, and did not venture on any remarks.
+
+Ruth told them that her father had decided that they should stay
+another week. And that now cook had come, she hoped to be able to go
+out with them and enjoy herself. And Heston said in that case, he
+should enjoy himself twice as much, as leaving her at home to do the
+housekeeping had made him quite miserable.
+
+But when Ruth went up to bed, and all the house was quiet, in a very
+sober mood, she sat down by her open window and thought over the events
+of the last few days, while she listened to the sound of the waves as
+they gently broke on the shore.
+
+She rejoiced inexpressibly at Norman's recovery. But somehow, the
+uppermost thought to-night was that a check had come to her friendship
+with Mary, and that things would never, never be the same again.
+
+"I thought nothing could ever come between us," she sighed, as
+she rested her head wearily on the window-sill, "and now quite a
+little thing, that was nobody's fault, and that could not have been
+anticipated, has divided us! Oh, Mary! Did I make an idol of you?"
+
+"And yet," she went on to herself, "I was very angry with her! I
+thought she was hard on me. I could not help what Vincent said—girls
+can't always help what a fellow chooses to say—and he gave me no time
+to think, or to answer him properly."
+
+Then there was nothing but the sound of the waves, so soothing in their
+gentle murmur, but so sad, she thought, to-night.
+
+She felt how lonely she was. For the last few months, there had always
+been Mary to whom she could tell everything. Now there was no one. Even
+if she and Mary should ever feel the same again, there must always be
+this subject on which neither of them could touch.
+
+Poor Ruth shed many bitter tears over the loss of her friend, and then,
+chilled and forlorn, she turned from the window, pulled down the blind,
+and lighted her candle.
+
+Her eyes fell upon her open Bible, where that morning she had been
+preparing her little story for Norman from the fourteenth chapter of
+Matthew. The words flashed across her now with a ray of comfort,—
+
+   "'Bring them hither to Me!'"
+
+What? Was she to bring her vexation, her burdened, disappointed little
+heart, her weariness, her feeling that all was going wrong with her?
+Was she to bring these things to Christ to be set straight?
+
+Was the grace to bear, the strength to go on again, the courage which
+would rise to the emergency—were these things all included in the five
+loaves and the two fishes which looked so insufficient for the feeding
+of five thousand men, and yet were to be brought to Him!
+
+With a sudden sense of relief, Ruth came back to her Resting-place.
+And the first grateful thought was, that even without Mary, cut off
+from all human sympathy, without an outside help of any sort, Jesus
+Christ had been sufficient to fill her heart and give her a rejoicing
+realisation of His presence.
+
+She had brought the trying circumstances to Him, as He had bidden her
+in those gracious words of His, "Bring them hither to Me," and she
+found she had enough and to spare!
+
+So she laid her head on her pillow, and, like Hannah of old, "her
+countenance was no more sad."
+
+"God can bring it all right, and make Mary understand," was her last
+thought before she slept.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+_A SUNSET._
+
+"RUTH," said Heston at breakfast next morning, "when we get back, I
+must ask my uncle to let me really begin."
+
+"Begin?"
+
+"To study for what I am going to be. I should like to be a doctor."
+
+Ruth looked earnestly at him, but Heston met her gaze steadily. "I mean
+it," he said. "Doctors have such a splendid chance of doing good, and
+helping people. I thought so in India and in Germany, but I think so
+ten times as much now."
+
+"I think so," said Ruth, heartily, "and I am glad you do."
+
+"I have had a long letter from poor father this morning," continued
+Heston, "but nothing but the signature is in his own writing. I fear he
+must be very ill. Do you think uncle would mind my wiring the good news
+about Norman to him? I should like him to get it before—" he paused.
+
+"I feel sure he would wish it, if we can make it up intelligibly."
+
+"Oh; no fear of that. But I tell you what, Ruth, as father is so ill,
+I'll just send the telegram along to uncle for his approval. It will
+only delay it for a few hours."
+
+So Heston wrote it out while Ruth stood by making suggestions. And when
+it was done, he gave Ruth his father's letter to read while he ran to
+catch the early post.
+
+It was a long letter, and evidently had been dictated at various times
+when he felt able, for the inks were different, as well as the writing.
+
+Ruth could not help crying over the touching farewell, thinking what
+it had cost that suffering father so far away, and then she found a
+message to herself.
+
+"Tell your Cousin Ruth," it ran, "that no words of mine can express the
+thanks I feel for her love to you all, and for receiving you into her
+loving heart." Thus the letter ended.
+
+"Oh, Heston," said Ruth, looking up with tearful eyes when he came in,
+"how sad it is!"
+
+"Yes; but how you have comforted him, Ruth! I shall never forget all
+you have done for us—never!"
+
+"When you do think of it, Heston, just remember that it has not been my
+goodness or love at all, but just God's great love to me!"
+
+"All right," said Heston. "I know you mean it, so I won't say another
+word!"
+
+
+So the last week passed by, Norman gaining strength and liveliness
+every day, and then they went home.
+
+As they sat in the train, Judith edged up close to Ruth's side and
+whispered, "Cousin Ruth, will you let me be your little sister when we
+go home?"
+
+"Willingly, dear," said Ruth, turning round and looking into the sweet
+blushing face.
+
+"I should like to be just your little sister! To do what you want, and
+be kind to you, and—and a comfort—if I could."
+
+"You can, dear," said Ruth, with watering eyes; and her heart felt
+lighter than it had done for ever so long.
+
+That evening, she and her father and Heston settled their future plans.
+
+Dr. Brown was very pleased with Heston's good sense, and readily
+promised to forward his wishes to be a doctor.
+
+"I do not know about money," said Heston, colouring deeply, "my father
+was too ill and too sorrowful at parting with us to ask him much, but
+I understand that he had some to leave us, but whether it would be
+enough—"
+
+"There will be enough for your education, my dear," said Dr. Brown,
+kindly, "and for the rest, I will take care of them. Do not worry your
+head over that."
+
+Heston could not get out much in the way of thanks, but his uncle
+understood.
+
+Then they fell to talking of Judith's schooling, and it was arranged
+that she should go to the High School where Ruth had been so happy. And
+Ruth undertook to take Norman's lessons for the present till he should
+be quite robust.
+
+
+So the next morning, she went down to the Town to call on the Head
+Mistress. And when the preliminaries were settled, she turned her steps
+to Riverside with a beating heart. She almost wondered whether she
+would be welcome; and then chid herself for her want of confidence in
+her friend.
+
+But Mary came running to her, and clasped her in her arms.
+
+"Oh, Ruth, how I have missed you!" she exclaimed. "The days have seemed
+so cold and long without your dear little presence."
+
+Ruth looked up shyly. "Are you glad to see me, dear Mary?" she asked.
+
+"'Glad!'"
+
+She glanced up into Mary's face with her clear, frank look, and Mary
+once more kissed her earnestly "and they made it up."
+
+But Ruth remembered that evening by the window at Sandy Cove, and she
+knew that it was God her Saviour who had answered her prayer, subdued
+her proud little heart, and had given her back her friend.
+
+During that happy summer, Ruth and Norman spent half their days in
+the sunny garden at Riverside, to their great content and Mary's
+enjoyment. Dr. Brown's carriage brought them, and fetched them home in
+the afternoon, and Ruth sat under the trees teaching Norman, or helping
+Mary with her needlework, and the brief misunderstanding they had had
+seemed like a dream.
+
+Sometimes, she thought there was a gravity about Ruth's face that
+she had never noticed before. But then, she reflected, Ruth had been
+through a great deal.
+
+Vincent wrote to his sister frequently, but she seldom spoke to Ruth of
+the contents of his letters.
+
+"Thank Arthur for his message," he said, in one of them. "Never was
+there a nicer one, and it did me more good than I can say."
+
+
+One day, in the late autumn, Dr. Brown and Ruth were walking up the
+hills together. Ruth had laughingly told him she meant to see the
+sunset from a certain spot, and that she was bent on his accompanying
+her.
+
+So, with a good-humoured smile, he put on his hat, and they set out
+together.
+
+When at length, they had climbed to the top and could look over the
+view on either side, Ruth gave a deep sigh. Whether of weariness or
+content, her father was uncertain. He looked in her face, and she
+turned towards him with a tender smile.
+
+"Are you happy, my dear?" he asked, a little wistfully.
+
+"Oh, yes, dear father," she said, as she clasped his arm closer.
+
+"Vincent Linthorpe wrote to me this morning," he said, still looking
+down upon her.
+
+"Did he!" asked Ruth, startled.
+
+"Yes; he spoke most warmly of the time he spent with us in the summer.
+Sometimes I have thought that you were going to tell me something, and
+then you have drawn back!"
+
+"There is nothing to tell," said Ruth, distressfully, hanging her head.
+"Nothing that I can tell exactly. He said half-a-dozen words, and I was
+taken by surprise—and that's all! Then he went."
+
+"And you were sorry?" said Dr. Brown, gently.
+
+"I don't know," said Ruth. "Yes, I was sorry that it happened. But it
+cannot be helped now, father."
+
+She brushed away two or three tears, and her father stood silent, only
+pressing her arm closely.
+
+"He says he will be home in the spring," he remarked at length. "I do
+not think the opening has been as profitable as was expected. I think
+he will be glad."
+
+No more was said, but Ruth was wonderfully comforted by her father's
+tenderness. And as they retraced their steps, her sweet brightness
+shone out again.
+
+"Father," she said, as they stood for a moment to watch the glorious
+sunset over the mountains, "I think God has brought nothing but
+blessing out of these children's coming."
+
+"I am sure of it," he said, heartily. "I thank God every day for it."
+
+"Heston is content," she went on; "Mala is quite changed; Norman is
+almost well; Judith is my little sister; and you and I are 'very'
+happy, aren't we?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+_MALA._
+
+LITTLE did Ruth think, when she and Morris made up their minds to bear
+with Mala, that soon she would prove their greatest comfort.
+
+Winter days succeeded that lovely autumn day when she and her father
+watched the sunset, and at The Firs peace and happiness reigned. But
+when the cold weather came, Morris seemed to fail, and was obliged to
+keep to her room and often to her bed.
+
+One evening, just as Ruth was wishing her old friend good-night after
+doing all she could for her comfort, Mala knocked at the door and came
+softly to the bedside.
+
+"Missie Morris," she said gently, "will you let Mala sleep in your room
+and nurse you? Missie Ruth has got them all to see to, and Mala has
+plenty of time! Do let me, dear Missie Morris, for all your love to me!
+I'm different now," she added beseechingly.
+
+Ruth glanced in Morris' face. "Would you wish it, dear?" she asked,
+bending over her.
+
+For answer, Morris put out her hand, and took the dark one in hers. "It
+would be a great comfort to me, because I know my childie has more than
+enough to do."
+
+"If you will help me, Mala," said Ruth, turning to her, "I should
+be very grateful, but I could not give up my dear Morris to anyone
+entirely!"
+
+"Oh no, Missie! I meant that. Let Mala do what she can. Indeed, I will
+do all you say. I have kept my promise about Master Norman, Missie,
+haven't I?"
+
+"Indeed you have," said Ruth, heartily.
+
+And so it was settled, to the great comfort of all parties; for Morris
+knew that her dear young lady was less tired; and for herself, the
+thought that thus her Lord had provided for her illness was a well of
+content.
+
+"I shall soon see Him," she would say with a peaceful look; "it will be
+only a little while now."
+
+And she was right. Before the snowdrops had peeped out, dear old
+Morris, with her hand clasped in Ruth's, and with Mala standing quietly
+by, entered into her eternal rest.
+
+The day before she died, she said to Ruth, "Dearie, you will let Mala
+help you all she can? I feel sure you may trust her now. She says she's
+been made new all over."
+
+And Ruth said "Yes," with thankful heart.
+
+Ruth's own sorrow at the loss of her dear old friend was quiet and
+deep, but she said very little about it for the sake of the others.
+
+At first she had dreaded lest Mala should shew extravagant grief after
+her great devotion to her patient. But she soon found that her fears
+were groundless.
+
+"Mala not grieving," she answered, when once Ruth looked in her face
+questioningly; "Missie Morris with Jesus now; she happy: so Mala happy
+too!"
+
+She crept into her own accustomed corner by her own little work-table,
+and the only difference was that Morris' bible lay open on it beneath
+her work, and that there was a chastened brightness in the dark face
+which had been growing there ever since Morris welcomed her into her
+room for Christ's sake.
+
+When the weather allowed, Ruth and Norman often went down to Riverside.
+And while Norman sat at the table with his lessons, Ruth and Mary
+worked and chatted. Happy, peaceful days in which they learned to know
+each other thoroughly.
+
+There was only one subject on which they never touched. Mary would
+speak of Vincent among the rest, and often his name was on her lips,
+but it came in her stories of the days of her old struggles, when she
+kept that diary which she had called "In the Sunlight and out of it,"
+and she seldom referred to his present doings. The fact that he was
+coming home soon was the only one that she mentioned.
+
+As they sat and worked, Mary would tell Ruth stories of the old days
+when her friendship with Ada Arundel was her great joy; of the long,
+waiting time of Cuthbert Reid before he gained the treasure of Ada's
+love; of Nellie Arundel and her many brothers and sisters; of her own
+love story with Arthur; and Ruth learned to love them all, and to know
+them through Mary's eyes.
+
+The life in the two large families to which Mary now belonged was so
+entirely different from anything that Ruth had known that she felt
+invigorated by all she heard, and grew stronger in spirit and more
+brave when she realised that the struggles and difficulties of others
+were as many as her own, though they might be different, and that the
+same grace was brought to bear upon them from the same everlasting
+Source of Supply.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+_DR. BROWN'S PLAN._
+
+RUTH and Norman were sitting one sunny afternoon in April on the
+hillside just above The Firs. Ruth often brought the child to this
+spot, for the wide expanse of country stretching out before them
+rested her, and she thought that it did the same for her loving little
+companion.
+
+There was a certain place which she always chose, with a large broken
+rock as a background which sheltered them from the wind, and with
+several smaller rocks which served "as chairs and tables" as Norman
+said. Above them and around them were scattered firs and larches, and
+between their stems, the green fields and peeps of hills beyond seemed
+to be fairer and more beautiful than when looked at in an unbroken
+sweep.
+
+Ruth had brought out some dainty work for Mary, but it had fallen into
+her lap, and her eyes were gazing at the prospect. Presently a little
+hand touched hers, and almost made her start.
+
+"There's Vincent coming up that winding path!" Norman said, pointing.
+
+"Vincent? Are you sure, Norman?"
+
+"You just look!" answered Norman. "But he's hidden by those trees now.
+Oh, there he is! Yes, it is Vincent; I knew it was."
+
+He was close to them by this time.
+
+And then as Ruth rose, he came up to them and shook hands.
+
+There was a moment's constraint, and then Vincent said:
+
+"I only landed at Liverpool this morning, and I wanted to see you first
+of all."
+
+"I did not know that you had even started."
+
+"No; it was quickly decided at the last."
+
+Then there was another pause, and Ruth said something about its being
+time for them to go home.
+
+"Oh; but might I just pick my flowers?" asked Norman, taking up his
+basket. "I shall not be long, Cousin Ruth; and you can have my seat,"
+he said, turning to Vincent, and pointing to the stone by Ruth's side.
+
+"Well, do not be long, dear," she said, "for we must be going."
+
+"Is it time?" asked the child, surprised.
+
+"Yes, quite time to-day," said Ruth.
+
+He went to the edge of the little path, where in sunny corners beneath
+the broken rocks and underwood a few wild flowers were peeping out.
+
+Vincent took his offered seat. "May I stay for a few minutes?" he
+asked. "The servants told me where you were to be found, and I ventured
+to follow you. I am afraid I was very clumsy and abrupt when I parted
+from you that day," he said, gently, "and I cannot tell you how much I
+have regretted it. I do not like to ask you to forgive it, because—"
+
+Ruth was silent. There was nothing to answer; and she wondered dimly
+whether Mary would be angry with her to-morrow, and think she had
+treated Vincent badly "this" time.
+
+But he was looking in her face as if expecting her to reply, and her
+eyes came back from the prospect, and met his with a certain distressed
+look in them which he could not fathom.
+
+Mary had whispered, as she had kissed him that morning just before he
+started for The Firs, "Make your wishes plain, Vincent! I am afraid you
+want her to understand without words!"
+
+Was he wanting her to understand without words now?
+
+"I came to you the moment I landed, to explain!" he exclaimed.
+
+"I did not know there was anything to explain—"
+
+"I wanted to tell you a number of things! May I try to tell you my
+meaning? I am very stupid, but it is because my heart is so bound up in
+what I am asking that I bungle so. Have patience with me, Ruth—it is
+because I love you so much; and I am afraid I shall go away, and not
+have made you understand after all!"
+
+There was a moment's silence. What could Ruth reply? Had he given her
+any opportunity of replying to him?
+
+Her cheeks burned and tears of mortification rose to her eyes. Yes,
+he would go away again, just as he did before, and Mary would be
+disappointed, and—it was too horrid: why did her heart ache like this?
+She almost wished he had stayed in America.
+
+"How is it to be, dear?" he ventured, very softly. "I loved you the
+first moment I saw you, and I have loved you ever since; and now I want
+you—" and then came what he wanted all in a breath, "I want you to be
+my wife!"
+
+Ruth turned her shy eyes to his face. Must she give him her answer now?
+Was that what he had meant to ask her when they parted all those months
+ago?
+
+"I did not understand then," she said, with deepening colour.
+
+"But you do now?"
+
+"Yes—"
+
+His face had turned pale now, and the hope which had flushed into it
+was dying out. After all, she did not care!
+
+But he thought of Mary's advice, and would make one more effort.
+
+"Tell me that you will, dear!" he entreated. "Can you?"
+
+"I think I could—if—" she said, slowly.
+
+"There can be no 'ifs' after that!" he joyfully exclaimed, taking her
+hands in his and drawing her to him.
+
+"I do not see how I can leave my father," she whispered, hanging her
+head.
+
+"I settled all that with him last autumn!" exclaimed Vincent.
+
+"You settled with my father!" she said, drawing back.
+
+"He told me he should never stand in the way of your happiness—if you
+loved anyone, he would come and live near you. Oh, Ruth, if that is the
+only objection, his generosity has removed that!"
+
+Ruth paused once more. She sat down on her seat again, and had turned
+very pale.
+
+"It is asking a great deal of my father," she said slowly, with
+faltering lips.
+
+"It is—a great deal—but he loves you better than himself, Ruth."
+
+"And I ought to love him better than myself," she said, more steadily.
+"I think I would like to talk to him. I should see things more plainly
+then."
+
+She rose and turned homewards, and Norman, seeing them move, sprang to
+her side and looked in her face wistfully.
+
+"It's all right, darling," she whispered, bending down.
+
+"Are you sorry about something?" he asked.
+
+"I ought not to be," she answered, turning towards Vincent with a
+grateful look.
+
+And Vincent on that took her hand in his, and would not let it go till
+they reached the bit of high road just by The Firs.
+
+"I must go back to Mary now, I suppose," he said reluctantly; "but I
+will come again this evening. You expect Dr. Brown soon?"
+
+"At four o'clock," said Ruth.
+
+"What makes you sad, Cousin Ruth," asked Norman as Vincent strode off
+down the hill.
+
+"Because he wants me to give him something, and I do not know whether I
+can."
+
+The child put her hand against his face caressingly.
+
+"Is it too difficult to ask God about?" he whispered.
+
+Ruth stroked his flushed cheek tenderly. "Of course it isn't, dear!"
+she exclaimed. "I was so taken by surprise that I had not time. Oh,
+Norman, what a comforter you are!"
+
+Mala came forward to meet them, and Ruth ran up to her own room.
+
+She knelt by her bed, and all she could ask was that she might be
+taught what to do, and not be allowed to hurt her father.
+
+Presently, she heard the carriage wheels, and she went down, afraid
+that her tearful eyes would not escape her father's notice.
+
+But for the moment he was so full of his news that he did not even
+glance at her.
+
+"You will be delighted to hear, my dear, that Mrs. Arundel has a fine
+little son!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Oh how glad I am!" said Ruth.
+
+Then her father caught sight of her face, and drew her into the library.
+
+"Has anything gone wrong, my dear?"
+
+But Ruth found it hard to tell. It was a long time before Dr. Brown
+could get at the bottom of it all, but with his arms round her and her
+head on his shoulder, he made it out at last.
+
+"Then it's the old father that stands in the way?" he said, with a
+tender smile, looking down on the fair little face he loved so well.
+
+"Oh, no! No!"
+
+"But, you see, he isn't in the way, because he made up his mind months
+and months ago that he'd pack up and come and live next door to you if
+that would make it easy!"
+
+"Oh, you dear, dear father! But—"
+
+"No 'buts' at all! Dr. Arundel can manage the practice, and I must
+retire some day. We can easily build a double nest for us both, and
+have a door between! I've thought it all out, you see, and we shall
+enjoy planning it together. Vincent says he will not mind the old
+father and the Indian children next door, and I—shall be more happy
+than I ever thought to be again! Does that satisfy you?"
+
+"It ought to," she answered, burying her face in his breast. "Oh,
+father, father, how good you are!"
+
+"Poor, Vincent!" he responded "I am afraid you did not give him much
+hope from the look of him as I passed him on the hill; he did not even
+see me."
+
+"He is coming presently," said Ruth, raising her head and blushing.
+
+"I am glad of it!" said her father, heartily. "He's a good man, Ruth;
+and I thank God that my darling has found such an one. I pray God to
+bless you both."
+
+He put his hands on her head and murmured words of blessing, and then
+Ruth threw herself into his arms, and though her tears rained down, she
+was comforted.
+
+
+When Vincent came back after an hour or two, she was herself once more.
+She told Heston and Judith that he wanted to speak to her, and she went
+to him in the drawing-room, holding out her hand frankly when he looked
+questioningly in her face.
+
+"It was so hard to decide," she said, "but, oh, I cannot tell you what
+my father has been to me!" She gave a little smile as she added, "He
+says I was not as kind as you deserved this afternoon! Was I very bad?"
+
+And Vincent said "she had not been bad at all, but that he had felt so
+afraid—"
+
+"But you are not afraid now?" she asked gently. "You need not be,
+Vincent, for you have made me very happy. Do be happy, too."
+
+"Then I am!" he exclaimed joyfully.
+
+And indeed he looked so, for no cloud rested on Ruth's face now.
+
+
+"Have you given it?" whispered Norman to her, when they went back to
+the others.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Does he like it?" questioned the child.
+
+"I think he does."
+
+"I'm so glad! I thought it would come right! I like to see you happy,
+Cousin Ruth."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+_THE HOUSE IN THE TREES._
+
+SO Vincent went back to Riverside with the understanding that he would
+see Ruth to-morrow before he started for his home. Heston had repaired
+to the library to study, and the children had long since gone to bed.
+
+Left together, the father and daughter sat very silent at first. And
+after a while, Ruth got up and came over to her accustomed place and
+laid her head on her father's shoulder.
+
+"It won't make a bit of difference!" she murmured so softly that he
+only just heard it.
+
+"I know that, my dear—"
+
+"You are sure that it will not make you unhappy?" she asked, raising
+her eyes to his face.
+
+"On the contrary, it has made me very happy!"
+
+She nestled her head closer again for reply.
+
+"Why did you not answer him in the autumn?" asked her father smiling a
+little.
+
+"I did not know—I was taken by surprise, and there was nothing to
+answer either, father."
+
+"It is a good thing he managed to give you something to answer this
+time, then! Ruth, I have seen two lives entirely spoilt in my young
+days, because the man left so much unsaid."
+
+"Who was it?" asked Ruth.
+
+"Nobody you ever heard of. He went abroad, and she has never married. I
+always feel sad when I think of it."
+
+Ruth could not help thinking how nearly that might have been their lot,
+and she was glad it had not been.
+
+"I have told Vincent," pursued her father after a pause, in which he
+had been fondly stroking her flushed cheek, "that I think you too young
+to be married yet awhile. He is quite willing to wait for two years,
+and by that time, my dear, we shall have been able, I hope, to find or
+build two suitable houses near Mr. Brown's works, and Dr. Arundel will
+have thoroughly taken up the whole of the practice."
+
+"Dear father!"
+
+"I shall make arrangements to retire in a year, I think, that will give
+us plenty of time. You see, I have been thinking about it for months."
+
+"I did not know that he had spoken to you," said Ruth blushing.
+
+"Yes: it was one of those things I could not speak of. It was better
+that you should get to understand yourself—and him—without any help
+from me."
+
+"He wants me to go home with him to be introduced to his mother and
+father. Do you think I had better go?"
+
+"Certainly. They will want to see you too. And while you are staying
+there, I will come over and look round at the neighbourhood. Will Brown
+will be pleased to see me; I have often promised to make acquaintance
+with his wife, and now she will be your sister!"
+
+"I shall feel dreadfully shy at going among such a lot of strangers—"
+
+"I tell you what, Ruth!" exclaimed her father suddenly. "I will wire
+to Will Brown to-morrow and ask him if he can have us both, and then
+you can go and see the Linthorpes from there. You will not feel half so
+strange then."
+
+"That would be better," said Ruth, raising her head, "but will Norman
+be all right?"
+
+"There are Judith and Heston to leave in charge," he answered, "and we
+shall not be away very long. I think he will be happy—"
+
+"Might I ask him? I feel as if he is part of my life now, father!"
+
+"So he is," said Dr. Brown, "but you must go to bed. Oh, my precious,
+how glad I am that it is all so happily settled."
+
+"Dear father! How good you have been to me," said Ruth as she gave him
+her good-night kiss.
+
+Then she turned back at the door to say "I am to be allowed to have a
+peep at Mary to-morrow, am I not?"
+
+"Yes, I hope so. Perhaps you will go down with Vincent?"
+
+"He is not coming till twelve; he said he had something to do he could
+not put off."
+
+"Then you will go after lunch? I will tell Mrs. Arundel you are coming."
+
+
+Ruth, with a little help from Judith, Norman, and Mala, was busy all
+the morning collecting and packing her belongings; for she felt sure
+that when once her father had decided on going, he would give her but
+little time before the project was carried out.
+
+She was not mistaken. For before twelve o'clock, Dr. Brown telephoned
+to her from the town that he had received the answer from his Cousin
+Will, and they were to go to-morrow.
+
+Ruth laughed with Heston over the promptness, and said that her father
+evidently thought that she would only want to take a few handkerchiefs!
+She was flying downstairs on some errand when the front door opened,
+and Vincent stood there.
+
+He came forward. "It has seemed such a long time!" he exclaimed. "I
+could not come earlier because I had to go to Worcester."
+
+"To Worcester?" she asked.
+
+He drew her into the drawing-room, and still keeping her hand in his,
+searched in his waistcoat pocket.
+
+"I have been hoping I might suit your taste, dearest, in choosing
+this—have I?" He put on her slender finger a ring, and as its stones
+flashed in the sunshine, he whispered, "Will you let it speak for me
+when I am away, and tell you I love you!"
+
+"It is beautiful!" said Ruth, glancing up. "I never saw one I liked
+better."
+
+"I am so glad! I had to be very particular, you see, for such a very
+dear and dainty little lady!"
+
+"You could not have chosen better," said Ruth; "but how did you guess
+the size so well?"
+
+"Ah! Mary helped me to that. She said you and she had laughed over her
+engagement ring once, and you had tried it on—"
+
+"So I did!" exclaimed Ruth, blushing crimson.
+
+"And Mary told me hers was a little large for you, so I guessed the
+rest."
+
+"You are a wonderful 'guesser,' then," smiled Ruth.
+
+"I've had to take a good many things on trust for a good many months,"
+he said archly.
+
+"Poor Vincent," she said kindly, "I am so sorry; but—"
+
+"Yes, yes, dear, it was my fault. And so Mary and you nearly broke your
+hearts over it?"
+
+"Nearly," said Ruth gravely, "and I do not know whether Mary has really
+forgiven me from the bottom of her heart yet."
+
+"Mary does not owe grudges," said Vincent.
+
+"No—she is the dearest, sweetest—but, you see, it was her twin who was
+made sorry; and it was all so difficult to explain."
+
+
+But when that afternoon, she bent over Mary and received her kiss, Ruth
+knew that all was right between them, and that what had been so hard to
+explain was made clear now.
+
+"My little sister," Mary whispered.
+
+Then she gave a sweet smile as she turned to the pillow by her side.
+"Am I not rich?" she asked, as she uncovered the little downy head and
+showed her son. "Arthur says I may call him Vincent! But perhaps I
+shall have to ask you now?"
+
+Ruth laughed a little as she blushingly said, if she were asked,
+nothing could please her better.
+
+And then nurse remarked time was up, and Ruth had to go.
+
+Mary caught her hand. "Let me see!" she said archly. "Do you like
+Vincent's choice?"
+
+"Very much indeed; only it is too beautiful."
+
+"He thinks nothing too beautiful for you," smiled Mary.
+
+So they managed to way-lay Dr. Brown's carriage and to get home for
+afternoon tea, having arranged together on the way that they would try
+to devote themselves to the children to-night to let them share as much
+of their gladness as they might.
+
+
+The next afternoon, the train bore them both, as well as Dr. Brown,
+towards Vincent's home.
+
+Mr. Brown's carriage was at the station to meet them, with Willie Brown
+inside, of whom Ruth had often heard.
+
+"My father is so pleased at your coming," he said, when they were
+seated and Vincent had gone towards his home; "he says it could not be
+better. And Alice is pleased too."
+
+Then smiling a little and colouring, he added, "You will be surprised
+to hear me call my stepmother 'Alice,' but it was her wish. We are the
+dearest of friends, and I cannot give you an idea of all her goodness
+and sterling worth. She is sister and mother to me at once, and I love
+her dearly."
+
+"It is very kind of you to tell us," said Ruth.
+
+"Well—to say the truth, I came on purpose. Alice is thoroughly
+unselfish, and she makes my father very happy."
+
+"I expect your kindness to her helps," said Ruth. She took a fancy to
+the young man on the spot.
+
+He shook his head, smiling, and soon they drew up at Mr. Brown's
+handsome house, and a well-dressed, sweet-looking lady of about thirty
+came forward to meet them.
+
+"This is dear Ruth, is it?" she asked, kissing the bright, blushing
+face. "We shall get acquainted soon. You are my cousin now, you know,
+but by and bye you are to be my sister!"
+
+There was an impression of ease and comfort in the whole air of the
+house, and when Ruth saw her room, she gave an exclamation of pleasure.
+
+"There!" said Alice, going to the window. "Do you see those poplars,
+with that red-gabled roof behind them?"
+
+"Yes," said Ruth.
+
+"That is our home—Vincent's home! He is there by this time, telling
+them all about you."
+
+"I am afraid they may be disappointed in me," said Ruth, looking up in
+Alice's pleasant face.
+
+"I do not think they will, dear."
+
+"I am so young—and so ignorant—I have no merit except—"
+
+"Except?" asked Alice, smiling.
+
+"Except that we love each other!" she said, and then turned away
+covered with confusion.
+
+Alice kissed her affectionately, and was just leaving the room, when
+Ruth looked up once more.
+
+"I do not know why I said all that, but I think it was your kindness,
+and that you reminded me a little of Mary."
+
+"Do I?"
+
+"Yes—and I want you to know that Vincent and I do not forget Who has
+given us our happiness; and we have promised each other that loving and
+serving Him shall be the very first thing with us."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+_A LARGE FAMILY._
+
+LEFT alone, Ruth sat down in a luxurious arm chair by the window, and
+looked out over the green meadows.
+
+Mary had told her how their windows at home had a view of Mr. Brown's
+house, but she little thought then that before long she would be
+sitting there herself, and that the mistress of the house was to become
+her own sister!
+
+But she must not spend time in day-dreams, for her father would miss
+her, and had not Alice told her that tea was just ready?
+
+She hastened her toilet, and soon was finding her way down. A maid came
+forward from one of the rooms and conducted her to the drawing-room,
+where Mr. Brown was talking to her father, and Alice was pouring out
+tea from a lovely old china teapot into cups such as Ruth had never
+seen. Her busy father had had other things to think about than old
+china, she thought!
+
+There was much to tell between the two cousins, and Ruth and Alice were
+left to entertain each other.
+
+Ruth found she had to tell all about Norman's recovery, and Alice and
+Willie Brown were full of interest in everything she could tell them,
+so that the time slipped by very fast. And just as Alice was proposing
+a walk round the grounds, Vincent's step was heard, and his smiling
+face appeared at the door.
+
+"So you could not stay away long!" said Alice in a fond teasing tone.
+"Come along, we have not been complete without you!"
+
+"Nor I," he said, "but Alice, mother and father cannot wait until
+to-morrow to see Ruth, so I have come to fetch her!"
+
+"Not till after dinner?" asked Alice. "Just as you like about that."
+
+So it was arranged. And visitors happening to come in, Vincent was told
+to show Ruth the beauties of the grounds, and the two went out together
+to the shady lawn, where seats and arbours and summer-houses seemed to
+abound, and they found themselves for the first time with opportunity
+to talk together over their plans, and of the new life that was opening
+before them.
+
+It seemed all too short when Vincent exclaimed, "There is the first
+dinner gong! I declare it seems no time since Alice sent us out. It was
+jolly of her, was it not?"
+
+"We must go now, though," smiled Ruth. "How long do they give us,
+Vincent?"
+
+"Half an hour," said Vincent, grudgingly. "Does it take you all that
+time to make yourself smart. You look just right as you are!"
+
+With which compliment, Ruth ran off laughing.
+
+
+After dinner, Vincent came up to her as they stood about in the
+drawing-room.
+
+"Shall we go now?" he asked. And when she turned rather pale, he added
+softly, "You need not be nervous, they will love you dearly!"
+
+So they set forth in the sweet evening light. There were only two or
+three fields to cross, and soon they were walking up the garden at
+Vincent's home.
+
+Mrs. Linthorpe had been watching for them, and met them at the garden
+door.
+
+One glance at her face, and Ruth knew that she had nothing to fear.
+
+She found two loving arms round her, and a very soft voice saying
+"Welcome, my dear!"
+
+Her first thought was that this was Mary's mother, her next that she
+was Vincent's mother, and would be her own.
+
+Lovingly the gentle eyes scanned the new daughter's face:
+
+"We shall get to know each other, and love each other soon," said Mrs.
+Linthorpe, "though I do love you already, for my boy's sake. Now I am
+going to take you to Mr. Linthorpe at once, or you will be dreading the
+interview all the time! Come in, dear!"
+
+She led the way into a shaded drawing-room, and there Ruth saw the
+invalid father of whom Mary had often told her.
+
+He held out his thin hand, and she bent to receive his kiss.
+
+"You seem like a little piece of my Molly!" he said, smiling. "How was
+she when you left, and my little grandson?"
+
+Ruth smiled brightly; how thankful she felt to him that he spared her
+any further greetings and congratulations.
+
+She gladly told him how she had been privileged to see both Mary and
+the grandson yesterday, and how well both were, and what happy messages
+Mary had sent to her father. And then Ruth's cheeks began to cool, and
+she could bear now the thought of the family of future brothers and
+sisters who would come in presently to be introduced.
+
+When that ordeal was over, and at length it was time to go home,
+Vincent took her across the fields once more in the moonlight, and the
+rest gathered round Mr. Linthorpe's chair to compare notes.
+
+"She looks very young," said Flora.
+
+"That will improve," said their mother.
+
+"She's pretty," said Harry.
+
+"That's nothing," exclaimed Archie bluntly, "She's a regular brick,
+that's what I call her; there's lots of stuff in her, I'm certain."
+
+"What do 'you' think, father?" asked Rose, bending over him.
+
+"I like all I have seen and all I have heard, exceedingly."
+
+"Father is such a judge of character," said Flora.
+
+"Now mother! It is your turn," said Harry, laughing. "I say! A poor
+daughter-in-law has a lot of people to please!"
+
+The rest laughed too, till Harry quite blushed.
+
+"He's thinking of his turn," said Archie.
+
+"Well—mother?" Harry urged.
+
+"Mothers have to be very quiet over their different children!" smiled
+Mrs. Linthorpe, "But I think she will make Vincent happy!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+_IN THE SHADED ROOM._
+
+THE next day was spent in "looking round," as Mr. Brown called it.
+
+He was exceedingly pleased that Dr. Brown thought of settling down near
+him, and that Vincent Linthorpe, of whom he spoke most highly, should
+have formed such a happy connection with his cousin's family.
+
+There were endless jokes as to the new relationships, but everybody
+seemed pleased, and the topic of the existing houses, or the building
+of another, occupied all their thoughts.
+
+Dr. Brown's two wishes were that the house should be on high ground and
+have an established garden; and these things circumscribed the number
+of available spots.
+
+"We shall have to look out for anything that falls vacant," said Cousin
+Will, at the end of their first day's search.
+
+"I think myself," said Dr. Brown, "that I shall have to buy a cottage
+perhaps, and build on to it. I shall get you to keep your eyes open for
+me."
+
+"We will most gladly," said Alice; "and Vincent goes about so much, he
+may hear of something."
+
+Ruth had now become quite at home with the Linthorpes, and had spent
+many happy half-hours with Vincent's mother and his invalid father.
+
+On the morning of the day on which she was going home, she was sitting
+with them with her needlework in her hand, but she did not get on very
+fast. She was listening to such talks as she had never heard before,
+and she was wondering at the grace which sustained the patient invalid
+for all those long years.
+
+"You bring me near to my Molly," he was saying. "Sometimes I think I
+catch a tone of her voice in yours!"
+
+"Do you? You see we have been so much together! I cannot tell you what
+I owe to Mary, Mr. Linthorpe; and she says she owes it to you and her
+mother!"
+
+"Oh! my dear, and we all owe it to God. It is His love and His patience
+and His strength that help us to go on at all! But Mary is a great
+treasure! Truly her prayer has been answered, 'Bless me, and make me a
+blessing.' Has it not?"
+
+"It has to me—" said Ruth. "I was so hard and so self-willed before I
+knew Mary."
+
+"Were you, my dear?"
+
+"Dreadful!" said Ruth, shaking her head.
+
+"Ah, well, my dear," said Mr. Linthorpe affectionately. "When we put
+ourselves into God's hands to do the best for us, and to mould us
+to His will, there is every prospect of a happy issue. He will not
+disappoint us of our hope."
+
+"That is what my old Morris used to tell me," said Ruth, with
+glistening eyes. "But, Mr. Linthorpe, I feel so untried. I often wonder
+how people 'bear' things! I feel as if I 'could' not! And yet that does
+not seem right, I know."
+
+"I understand," he answered tenderly, "but, my dear, God does not ask
+us to bear everything that everybody has! He has promised grace for
+that which He calls 'us' to pass through! That thought has been a great
+comfort to me. I was thinking about it only the other week. Satan said
+to me, 'You have had a great many years of weakness, and you have been
+very patient' (yes, my dear, he twitted me with that!), 'but now there
+are other things you may have to bear, how will you do then?'
+
+"For a moment I was staggered, but then came another thought, straight
+from my Lord and Saviour, 'But "He" said unto me, My grace is
+sufficient for thee, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.'"
+
+Ruth's eyes filled. She knew from Mary what all the years had been, and
+she bent and kissed the suffering, peaceful face almost reverently.
+
+He looked up and gave a beaming smile.
+
+"Do you know the end of that quotation?" he asked tenderly.
+
+"No—"
+
+"'"Most gladly," therefore, will I glory in my infirmities that the
+power of Christ may rest upon me!'"
+
+So after a very happy four days, Ruth and Dr. Brown went home, and
+Vincent was left behind to apply himself to his work and to look
+forward to the next meeting.
+
+
+"Well, Cousin Ruth," said Heston, when they got home, "I would not have
+believed that the house would be so empty without you!"
+
+"I expect it was," said Ruth.
+
+"Did you wish you were back here?" asked Judith.
+
+"Sometimes. I caught myself feeling home-sick two or three times in
+spite of being so happy."
+
+"That's right," said Heston; "I didn't want you to be asked there for
+ever!"
+
+"'For ever?'" she questioned smilingly.
+
+"Well, you know what I mean! Endlessly paying visits away from us, you
+know."
+
+"Oh, well, we shall see. I do not intend to leave my father, anyway—so
+you need not be afraid."
+
+
+When she went up to wish Norman good-night, he looked wistfully in her
+face after her kiss. "Well, dear?" she asked.
+
+"Must you go down directly?"
+
+"Oh, no; I will sit by you. Did you want me to talk to you?"
+
+"A little while. It is so nice to have you back. No one is just like
+you, you know."
+
+She stroked his head.
+
+"Everybody has been so kind," pursued Norman, "especially Heston. Don't
+you think Heston is awfully kind—for a boy?"
+
+Ruth laughed softly.
+
+"He is—for a boy. He is every way, I think, one of the kindest boys I
+ever met."
+
+"He used to read to me every night, just like you do, and then when he
+had done reading the first evening, he said, 'Doesn't Cousin Ruth say a
+prayer with you?'"
+
+"I said, 'Yes.'
+
+"And so he knelt down and repeated 'Our Father.' Was it not kind?"
+
+"'Very' kind."
+
+"And then, Cousin Ruth, he sat down by me, and told me about one night
+on board the steamer when we were coming home from India.
+
+"He was standing on deck watching the stars, leaning on the railings,
+when an old sailor came up to him, and asked him if he might say a word
+to the young gentleman, because he was a bit like his son who was far
+away? So Heston said he might certainly if he liked.
+
+"And then the old sailor said he made bold to speak because he knew
+what it was to have our Saviour as his own, and he wanted the young
+gentleman to have Him too."
+
+"What a dear old man," said Ruth.
+
+"Yes; and Heston said that after that, he could not forget his words,
+and how the old sailor had said,—
+
+   "'Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out.'
+
+"And those words rang in his ears all the rest of the voyage. And then,
+Cousin Ruth, on the second morning that uncle had prayers with us, the
+words he read were those very ones!—
+
+   "'Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out.'
+
+"And Heston was so struck with them that he thought the best thing was
+to 'Come,' as the words said, and he has felt happier ever since!"
+
+"How glad I am," said Ruth joyfully.
+
+"I knew you would be," said Norman, throwing his arms round her neck.
+
+So once more Ruth "settled in" as she called it.
+
+Norman was now considered well enough to do a few hours' schooling
+every day, and he was able to walk down to the town daily and ride up
+with his uncle at four o'clock.
+
+So Ruth found herself much more at liberty in the middle of each day.
+
+
+When the Term began, Heston went to school at Worcester and returned
+for the week-ends, and they all missed him very much.
+
+But Ruth had plenty to do. She diligently set herself to learn all the
+housewifely arts that came in her way. And cook, who was her devoted
+instructress, delighted in the success which attended their efforts.
+
+In the evenings, when Judith's lessons were prepared, the two "sisters"
+as Judith insisted on naming them, sat at their needlework.
+
+"I only wish Missie Morris could see," Mala sometimes remarked.
+
+And Judith would say saucily as she called a blush in Ruth's face, "The
+fact is Cousin Ruth, you want to be a perfect wife."
+
+"That I never shall be!" said Ruth shaking her head. "For Mary's father
+told me that human nature is chiefly remarkable for its failure!"
+
+Judith paused with the scissors in her hand and looked at her
+dubiously. "Then shall you not be a perfect wife after all your
+efforts?"
+
+"I'll be as perfect as I can," said Ruth smiling; "but seriously,
+Judith, do you not find in your heart, that when you would do good,
+evil is present with you?"
+
+"I thought that was because I was so far worse than other people!" said
+Judith.
+
+"No, I do not think that is it. I think it is that we are faulty, and
+full of evil, and we want to be freshly forgiven, and freshly enabled
+every day and every hour."
+
+Judith was silent; she went on with her work as if absorbed in it, but
+really, she was thinking of what they had been talking about.
+
+"I should like to be good and please Jesus," she said at length, "but
+I do fail so often! I get cross if I am called off my lessons to do
+things. And then if we are working, and Mala comes in and wants me to
+find the key of my drawers, I feel so annoyed with her! I am afraid,
+Ruth, that I have not a very good temper—"
+
+Ruth was leaning over for the scissors, and she took the opportunity to
+kiss Judith's soft little cheek.
+
+"I am sure all these things that we are conscious of as failures will
+improve if we are watchful," she said, affectionately, "and if our
+chief aim is really to please God in our everyday life."
+
+"Do you really think so? That is very comforting," the girl responded,
+and then took up her work again and went on with it with fresh zest.
+
+
+Thus the winter advanced, but nothing was heard of any house being to
+let which would suit Dr. Brown's ideas.
+
+"I shall have to build, after all, I fear," he said one evening, "but I
+shall wait till March before deciding."
+
+Vincent came for week-ends as often as he could, and Mr. Brown, with
+his usual thoughtfulness, made things as easy for him as he could. Mary
+often laughed, and quoted to Arthur that "it was an ill wind that blew
+nobody any good," for she had quite a treat of her twin now.
+
+Ruth, as usual, spent many of her spare hours with her friend.
+
+The baby would lie and kick and crow on the pillow on the floor, while
+Mary made endless garments for him, and Ruth plied her needle over her
+own preparations.
+
+
+One day, after two or three days' absence, Ruth entered Mary's
+dining-room with an unusually eager look on her face.
+
+"Have you come back?" asked Mary, looking up.
+
+"Yes—this morning; just now. I felt I must come in to tell you. We have
+bought the house!"
+
+"Oh, have you?"
+
+"Yes; you knew that my father and I went the day before yesterday? It
+was all in such a hurry that I could not come in to tell you. Norman
+promised he would."
+
+"And so he did, dear. Do tell me all about it."
+
+"The man who had the house to sell would not wait. I cannot explain
+why, but something about foreclosing a mortgage."
+
+"Yes, I know—"
+
+"So we had to settle it soon, and father was afraid of losing it. Mary,
+it is lovely! It is on the highest ground anywhere round, and has nice
+views over the fields, and such a sweet garden."
+
+"And how about the house? Is that suitable for what Dr. Brown wants?"
+
+"Yes; it can be altered capitally. It is little more than two cottages,
+and father proposes to build on the ends of them a sort of wing to
+each. Oh, such dear old-fashioned staircases, and such low, sloping
+ceilings! I never saw anything so pretty!
+
+"Father says he shall open a doorway between the two little halls, so
+that we may be able to visit each other without going out of doors."
+
+"That will be very nice," said Mary heartily.
+
+"Vincent likes it," said Ruth; "he is not afraid that we shall see too
+much of them. He says he has always been used to a large family, and he
+thinks it is the very happiest thing that could be.
+
+"Oh, Mary! If you could have been there, and have seen us dancing about
+for joy at such a lovely home as it will be!"
+
+"Will they spoil the garden very much with their building operations?"
+
+"Father thinks not. Of course the two grass-plots will suffer, but
+he says there is more than a year, and that is easily replaced. No,
+it is the trees, and the currants and gooseberries, the syringas and
+the laurels, that charm him, to say nothing of the old-fashioned
+flower-beds full of all kinds of perennials which are already beginning
+to peep out."
+
+Mary's sympathy was very great. She dearly loved "planning" houses,
+and told Ruth she must bring the plans for her to see, as no one would
+enjoy them more!
+
+"We have had no time to talk of them," said Ruth; "but do you know,
+Mary, I consider father is growing quite young again with the interest
+of all this. He never gives those heavy sighs now!"
+
+"His heart is at rest, dear, for one thing: what a difference that
+makes."
+
+"I sometimes look back, and am amazed," said Ruth softly, "at all the
+changes that have come in the last year or two. How sad we were, and
+how dear old Morris was the only one in our house who cared about the
+best things. And now—"
+
+"It is very wonderful," said Mary.
+
+"Oh, it is! I trace a great deal of it to dear old Morris's prayers,
+Mary! And then, next, to 'you.' You have been made a blessing to me,
+indeed!"
+
+"A most unworthy one, then," said Mary.
+
+Just at that moment Arthur came in, having met Dr. Brown in the town,
+and having heard the news of the house from him.
+
+"So you are the happy possessor of ten acres, Ruth, and a couple of
+pretty cottages into the bargain!" he said, in a congratulatory tone.
+
+"Yes, my father has bought it."
+
+"Bought it for you, he told me. It is to be made out in your name!"
+
+Ruth turned crimson with surprise. "I did not know," she exclaimed; "he
+did not tell me that."
+
+"He made no secret of it to me," smiled Arthur. "He said 'it was a
+love-token for the Doctor's Daughter,' if you know who that is!"
+
+
+
+                              THE END.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78887 ***