Glenloch Girls Part 16

"Oh, you do that so fast and so carelessly," she said at last, "and yet that beautiful pattern comes so perfectly." "Isn't it wonderful, Ruth?" asked Mrs. Hamilton, coming into the room. "I hoped Marie would show you her lace pillow and her embroidery."

"It's perfectly fascinating," declared Ruth, "and I'd like to learn, but I know I should tie all those threads in a tight knot right away."

"Come over and I will teach you a simple pattern that in my country quite little children learn to make," urged Marie, who longed for another visit from her new friend.

"I'll come again gladly, but I'm not sure that I shall ever have courage to attempt anything so wonderful," laughed Ruth as she rose to go.

"I'm so glad you took me there, Aunt Mary," she said as they got into the sleigh. "You seem to know just what to do for people when they are miserable."

"I knew that what you wanted most I couldn't give you, dear, so I tried the next best thing."

"Marie was so cheerful and patient that it made me ashamed to be anything else when I'm so well and have father. Only it seems as though I never wanted my mother more than I do to-day." Ruth's voice trembled and the tears filled her eyes.

"Dear, we think you are brave, and we have appreciated your struggles more than you suspect," said Mrs. Hamilton tenderly. "We are so grateful for what you have done for Arthur, and the whole house seems more cheerful when our borrowed daughter is in it."

Ruth's face brightened, and her hand sought Mrs. Hamilton's under the robe and squeezed it hard. She was silent for a moment and then she cried gayly, "From now on I 'solomon promidge,' as some one used to say, to be good and cheerful for the rest of the day."

"That's right, darling; and now let's see if any Christmas greetings have arrived while we've been away," said Mrs. Hamilton as they entered the house.

"I should say they had," said Arthur, who had just come down to lunch, and was scrutinizing the addresses on several interesting looking packages. "Here's a heavy box for Ruth, and several small packages for you, mother."

"Oh, would you open it now, or would you wait until to-morrow?"

cried Ruth, as she weighed the package in her hands and studied the outside. "It's too fascinating, and I really can't wait," she decided, and cutting the string with the knife Arthur held out to her, she soon disclosed a box of unmistakable intent.

"Tyler's!" she said rapturously, "and five pounds of it, I'm sure.

That's Uncle Jerry's writing on the envelope. 'For the Social Six, whose acquaintance I hope to make in the near future.' How dear of him! And that means that he's coming to Boston some time this winter! Oh, I shall be so happy if he does."

"He's a wise young man to pave the way beforehand so sweetly," said Mrs. Hamilton with a laugh. "Ail the girls will think him quite perfect."

"He's the nicest uncle that ever lived, and we do have such good times together. He's only twelve years older than I am, you know, and he seems more like a brother than an uncle." As Ruth spoke the front door opened suddenly and Mr. Hamilton entered.

"Am I just in time for lunch?" he asked gaily. "I thought I'd come out early to-day and play with Ruth. Besides, I have a package here which she might like to investigate."

He gave Ruth a bundle which was almost covered with seals, stamps and addresses, and a letter which bore a foreign postmark.

"From father," exclaimed Ruth. "Excuse me if I open it now. Do listen to this," she said as her eyes traveled quickly over the familiar handwriting. "'The package which I am sending in Mr. Hamilton's care contains some little gifts for the girls and boys about whom you have written to me. They have all been so kind to you that I am glad to express my grat.i.tude to them even in so slight a manner.

I shall leave you to bestow them as you think fit, and only hope that they will enjoy them as much as I have enjoyed choosing them.'

"Isn't that the loveliest thing you ever heard of?" said Ruth, turning to Mrs. Hamilton. "Won't we have fun deciding about them?"

"Let's have an impromptu party, to-night, if we can get the girls and boys together," said Mrs. Hamilton, who was as much a girl as Ruth about some things.

"Splendid!" said Ruth, and then added in comical dismay, "I don't see how you expect me to eat any lunch with such exciting times in prospect."

"We'll eat and plan at the same moment," consoled Mrs. Hamilton, "and then you won't feel that you're losing precious time."

It was decided that they should invite only the Social Six girls, and the boys of the Candle Club, and to Ruth was left the pleasant task of telephoning where she could, and sending John with notes to the others. Every one in the house was busy, for each wanted to have a hand in making Ruth's first party in her new home a happy one. Delicious odors began to come from the kitchen, where Ellen was flying around with a red and beaming face, and even Arthur was shut up in his room carrying out mysterious directions his mother had given him.

"I've been racking my brains to think up some quite novel way to give these presents," said Ruth as she and Mrs. Hamilton finished making their selections.

"Just leave it to me. I have a plan for that, and all you need to do is to make them into nice little packages. You can use these small cards for marking them."

Ruth sat in her room making her parcels gay with gold cord and sprigs of holly until she heard Mrs. Hamilton calling her. Then she went down-stairs to find the family a.s.sembled in the dining-room for a light and early supper. Until they had met at the table it had not occurred to Ruth to wonder how Arthur would take this sudden festivity.

So it was with real purpose but with an apparently careless manner that she stopped him on his way to the stairs to say, "Do be down before any one comes, for I want you to help me out. I feel really embarra.s.sed over my first party."

"I'm not coming down," he answered abruptly.

"Not coming down? Oh, Arthur, that's too bad of you. Does your mother know?"

"No, not yet. I told her I'd try, and I have, but I can't manage it." Arthur's face and manner were so forlorn that it took all Ruth's courage to continue. She glanced around but there was no one within hearing, and at last she said, "Why won't you come down?

Is it because you can't bear to have the boys and girls see you on crutches?"

Arthur nodded uncomfortably. He hated to talk of this to any one, and he hadn't expected any determined interference in his plans.

"Don't you suppose they ail know about it? And if they do will just seeing you make any difference?" continued Ruth, quite surprised at her own eloquence, and still persistently barring the way to the stairs. "I know that they are all longing to have you with them again, and that none of the good times seem the same without you.

I heard Frank and Joe say the other day that if you kept up this sort of thing much longer they were going to make a raid on your room and have it out with you."

"I wish they would," answered Arthur gloomily. "Perhaps they might knock some sense into me."

"Well, if you want to know what I think," Ruth went on, feeling that her courage was fast departing, and on that very account growing more and more severe, "I think it's cowardly to shut yourself away from your friends and spoil everything like this. I dare say you are one of the very boys who think that ail girls are cry-babies, but I can't see why it isn't playing baby to do as you are doing."

CHAPTER XI

ARTHUR COMES BACK

As soon as Arthur was out of sight Ruth flew up the stairs and into her room.

"Oh, dear! Now I have done it!" she thought, throwing herself on the couch and clasping her hands behind her head. "Just as we were beginning to be good friends, too. Why didn't I keep still and let his mother manage it?"

Ruth's cheeks were very red and her hands hot and unsteady as she put on her dainty silk gown. She had expected to enjoy the evening so much, and now, for the moment, at least, she would be thankful if there were to be no party. She tormented herself by thinking that perhaps if she had not interfered things might have gone better.

What boy could ever forgive being called a coward and a baby? Would she, herself, have been braver or more cheerful if she had suddenly been condemned to crutches and so inactive a life?

Fortunately for her the sound of the door-bell made her run hastily down-stairs to receive her guests. It was a relief to find Mrs.

Hamilton in the big music-room, for though she was accustomed to meeting the three boys who had arrived first, they seemed strangely formal and unfamiliar in the dignity of their party clothes. They were doing their best to be cheerful and entertaining, for all felt oppressed by the fact that there was to be a party in the Hamilton house without Arthur as host.

Joe, who with Frank and Arthur had formed a trio noted for its loyalty and good fellowship, looked as solemn as a boy who resembled a good-natured cherub could, and shook hands with Mrs. Hamilton and Ruth with a fervor that made them wince. Arthur had been his hero and chum ever since they were small boys in knickerbockers.

They had gone to school together, and had been preparing for the same college when the accident happened which had so changed Arthur.

It had been the first real sorrow of Joe's life to be shut away from Arthur, and he felt that he should never be reconciled to it.

Philip and John Canfield were brothers who had come lately to Glenloch, and were much liked by the boys and girls. Phil, the elder, was a quiet, studious boy, much interested in mechanics and electricity, and preparing for a course in one of the well-known scientific schools. He was devoted to his younger brother, who was a brilliant, artistic lad, but not very strong. The family had come to Glenloch on account of the fine air, and the out-of-door life.

Glenloch young people were never late in arriving at a party, and almost before Ruth realized it ail her guests had come.