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"Then will General Washington and Lafayette come here, Jason?"
questioned Ruth eagerly.
"I dunno, Missie. But I reckon de English Gwen to have a mighty fine party. Deere gwine to have bands o' music in boats on de river. Yam,"
and Jason chuckled at the thought of all the great preparations that had already begun for the most splendid pageant that America had seen, and about which the people of Philadelphia were wondering, for the English officers were making elaborate plans.
"I wish I could drive two horses," said Ruth, looking a little longingly at the reins and whip that Jason so skilfully held in one hand.
"Landy, Missie! Yo' Jes' take hold de reins like dis," responded Jason, at the same moment clasping Ruth's hands over the leather reins. "Now hole 'em study."
Ruth obeyed Jason's instructions to "look straight ahead, an' hole 'em up study," and it was the happiest part of all that happy May-day to be driving Jason's brown horses, with the other girls singing and laughing on the seats behind her. But as they turned from the river road into the town Jason again took the reins. The girls were now carried each to her own home, so Winifred and Ruth were set down at the Merrills' door.
"We have had a beautiful time, Betty. We shall always remember _your_ birthday," declared Ruth, and Winnie repeated the words.
Betty smiled and waved her hand; she realized that her two little friends were thanking her for more than their happy May-day.
Hero welcomed Ruth home, and seemed to be trying to tell her something.
He ran around her, barking and whining.
"What is it, Hero? What is the matter? Where is my mother?" she asked, as she pushed open the door of the sitting-room and found it vacant.
"Mother!" she called, running into the dining-room, and then heard her mother's voice calling from the kitchen:
"Come out here, Ruthie!"
Ruth stopped in the doorway with an exclamation of surprise.
"Oh, Mother! What is it?" she asked, for Mrs. Pennell was sitting in a low chair near the window, with one foot resting on a stool.
"I have sprained my ankle, Ruthie. I slipped coming in from the porch about an hour ago, and could just manage to crawl to this chair,"
replied Mrs. Pennell; "and now you will have to be 'mother' for a time.
Tie my ap.r.o.n over your dress, and start up the fire, and fill the big kettle with water."
Ruth obeyed quickly, and in a few moments had carried out her mother's directions, bringing a small wooden tub in which to turn the water when it should be heated. She could think of nothing but that her mother must be in pain, as she drew off Mrs. Pennell's slipper and stocking, filled the tub, and now gently bathed the swollen ankle.
"Remember, Ruthie, dear, when any one has the ill-fortune to sprain wrist or ankle, that hot water is the best aid," Mrs. Pennell said, as she directed the way in which Ruth should bandage the ankle.
"I am afraid I am going to make a good deal of work for my little girl.
We must try and send for your Aunt Clara to come as soon as possible,"
she added.
But Ruth did not mind the work; as she went from pantry to fireplace, preparing toast and a dish of hot gruel for her mother her thoughts flew away to Aunt Deborah at Barren Hill, to the l.u.s.tre cup out of which Lafayette had drunk, and she realized that she could not go away from home now that her mother was lame.
After supper the ankle was bathed again, and now Mrs. Pennell thought it best that Ruth should run in and tell Mrs. Merrill of the accident, and ask her a.s.sistance. For she found herself unable to walk.
Mrs. Merrill came at once, and with her aid Mrs. Pennell was able to reach the big sofa in the sitting-room where she was made comfortable for the night.
"I will send Gilbert to Germantown early in the morning to fetch your sister," said Mrs. Merrill, as she bade her neighbor good-night.
"It is fortunate that Ruth had not started for her visit to Barren Hill," she added.
"It is, indeed. I could hardly spare her now," Mrs. Pennell responded.
Ruth listened with a feeling that there would never be any more happy days. Her mother was lame; she could not go to Barren Hill, and all her plans for visiting her father at Valley Forge, and perhaps seeing the brave young Lafayette, must be given up.
As she went slowly up-stairs to bed, she had almost forgotten the happy birthday picnic near the river. But she recalled what Black Jason had said of the rumor that General Howe was soon to leave Philadelphia. Just now, however, that seemed to be of little importance to Ruth. Her last waking thought was that she must be sure to get up early, very early, the next morning and have hot water ready to bathe the hurt ankle.
CHAPTER XVIII
A GREAT RESOLVE
Although Ruth was up in good season the next morning, she had only started the kitchen fire when Mrs. Merrill and Gilbert appeared at the kitchen door with a basket containing breakfast for Mrs. Pennell and Ruth.
Gilbert was all ready to start for his drive to Germantown, and, after a few words with Mrs. Pennell, hurried away.
Mrs. Merrill bathed the sprained ankle and helped Ruth's mother to a comfortable chair near the window.
"May I not put the little table by your chair, Mother, and have my breakfast here with you?" asked Ruth.
"Yes, indeed! That is exactly what I was wishing you to do, my dear,"
responded Mrs. Pennell; and Ruth ran away to the kitchen and brought in the hot corn bread that Mrs. Merrill had brought, the dish of porridge and the pot of steaming coffee. Then she drew a chair up opposite her mother, and they smiled happily at each other across the small table.
Mrs. Pennell declared that her foot was much better.
"I am sure your Aunt Clara will return with Gilbert," she continued, "but even then I am afraid you will have to do a good deal more than ever before, Ruthie, dear, for Aunt Clara is not yet fully recovered from her illness."
Ruth felt rather proud to know that her mother relied upon her to be of so much help, and, for the moment, quite forgot the visit to Barren Hill. She told her mother of all the delights of Betty's May-day party, and when she carried the breakfast dishes out to the kitchen she was almost her happy self again.
Winifred came over and helped Ruth with the household work that morning, and early in the afternoon Aunt Clara arrived; who, in spite of Mrs.
Pennell's fears in regard to her strength, declared herself quite equal to taking care of her sister and attending to the work of the house.
Nevertheless Ruth was kept busy for a number of days; she did not go very far from her mother's sitting-room, and Mrs. Pennell said that her little daughter was "hands and feet" for her lame mother.
Mrs. Pennell's fingers were busy making a dress for Ruth. It was of white linen that Aunt Deborah had woven herself, and brought as a present to Ruth, and Mrs. Pennell was hemst.i.tching the broad collar and dainty cuffs.
"Your Aunt Deborah will be pleased if you have the dress to wear when you visit her," said Mrs. Pennell, a few days after her accident, when Ruth sat beside her, both busy with their needles.
"But I can't go to Barren Hill, Mother. You couldn't spare me," replied Ruth.
"Of course you must go to Barren Hill. Not just at present; but in a week or two I shall be hobbling about the house, and your Aunt Clara will stay with me while you are away," said Mrs. Pennell.
"Truly? Am I really to go to Barren Hill?" exclaimed Ruth, dropping her work, and jumping up from her chair. "Oh! I'm so glad."
Mrs. Pennell looked at her little girl in surprise. She had had no idea how much Ruth had counted on this visit, nor with what disappointment she had given it up.
"Why, my dear child, you have not said a word about your visit since I hurt my ankle. I had not an idea that you wished to go so much," she said.