Glenloch Girls Part 33

"How perfectly lovely!" exclaimed Betty.

"I don't think so," mourned Dolly. "What shall we do with Ruth and Miss Burton both gone?"

"Tell them the rest, Ruth," urged Arthur.

"The rest? Oh, yes. After the reception Uncle Jerry and his wife--doesn't that sound grand?--are going off somewhere for a week, and Mrs. Hamilton is going to take me to New York to meet them."

"And Mr. Hamilton and Mr. A. Hamilton are going, too," added Arthur with great satisfaction.

It was Ruth's turn to look surprised. "Why how perfectly grand!

You never said a word."

"Father just suggested it to-night and I thought I'd surprise you.

He's planning to have four days there before you sail."

"Fine old plans," said Betty soberly. "It's all very nice for Ruth, but I feel as if all the dolls I ever had were stuffed with sawdust."

"So do I," added Dorothy, with a little catch in her voice.

Charlotte said nothing, but to the surprise of every one she put her arm around Ruth in a way that was more eloquent than words.

The Candle Club party threatened to end in melancholy fashion, but the irrepressible Joe came to the rescue as usual. "Ruth can't leave the country," he announced decidedly. "She has too much live stock to look after. To my knowledge she owns half a horse, and the whole of a very enterprising kitten."

Every one laughed, for all knew that Fuzzy's latest escapade had been the theft of a string of sausages which he had proudly brought home untouched to show to his mistress.

"It's just as well for me to go before my live stock gets me into trouble," laughed Ruth. "As for my half of Peter Pan, I shall will that to Arthur to keep until--"

"Until you come back, of course," interrupted Arthur. "Your father may have you for a while, and then you must come back to Glenloch, and this time for a whole year."

"Hear, hear," came in eager chorus from the others, and the party broke up happily after all.

CHAPTER XIX

"HOME, SWEET HOME"

As the "Utopia" made her slow way out into the harbor Ruth's eyes clung lovingly to the three people who were waving farewell to her from the end of the pier. For some time she could see them distinctly, could tell which was Aunt Mary and which Arthur. Then the figures on the pier began to melt into each other, the waving handkerchiefs became mere white specks in the distance, and Ruth looked up to find Uncle Jerry watching her with quizzical gaze.

"I don't see why that band wants to play 'Home, Sweet Home,'" she said impatiently as she turned away from the side. "I don't think it's nice to work on people's feelings that way."

Uncle Jerry laughed. "You're not the first one who's thought that,"

he said consolingly. "Your aunt and a steamer chair are waiting for you on the other side, so come along and look at your letters and parcels."

"My aunt," repeated Ruth. "How ridiculous it seems to think of that little young thing being my aunt."

"Not any more absurd, I'm sure, than that a little young thing like me should be your uncle. I'm only five feet eleven, and a hundred and eighty pounds in weight."

Ruth laughed merrily, as Uncle Jerry meant she should, and just then they came to their chairs, and to the pretty new aunt smiling a welcome.

"You were so absorbed that we left you for a moment while we secured our chairs." she said as Ruth dropped down beside her. "I'm glad you've come, for I'm so anxious to know what's in these mysterious packages."

"I brought them up from your stateroom in my bag," added Uncle Jerry. "I thought you could entertain your youthful uncle and aunt by taking out one at a time. Sort of a grab-bag arrangement, you know."

Ruth drew out one of the packages and looked at it curiously. "That's Katharine's writing," she said, as she studied the address. Inside was a round flat pincushion made of blue velvet and embroidered with a spray of apple-blossoms. Around its edge was a fancy arrangement of pins of all colors, and fastened at the back hung a sort of needle-book with leaves of coa.r.s.e net in which were run invisible hairpins. On a sheet of paper was written in Alice's small, neat hand:

Pins for your collar and pins for your hair, Pins for your belt, and some to spare For any old thing you may want to do. And not only pins, but our love so true We send in this little package to you. Katharine--Alice.

"Isn't that dear of them?" cried Ruth. "I suppose they made it, and I shall hang it up in my room just as soon as I get a room."

Number two proved to be a letter from Charlotte, and as Ruth opened it a dainty handkerchief trimmed with narrow lace insertion and bordered with pink wash ribbon dropped into her lap.

"DEAR OLD RUTH" (the letter ran):

"Don't fall overboard when I tell you I trimmed this handkerchief myself, and more than that, don't look at the st.i.tches. I thought I couldn't show my devotion to you more than by poking a needle in and out.

"Glenloch won't seem the same without you, and I can't bear to think you've really gone. Do write to me often and tell me all the interesting things you see and do.

"I can hear weeping and wailing out in the yard, and I know the twins are into some mischief, so I must stop.

"Love to Uncle and Aunt Jerry from "Yours disconsolately, "CHARLOTTE."

"I should say that was devotion," said Ruth much touched. "Charlotte hates sewing, and that handkerchief must have been awfully fussy to do. But isn't that a nice name she's given you, Aunt Jerry? I like that and think I shall use it."

The next package was a small book from Marie, filled with little water-color sketches of Glenloch. Ruth and Mrs. Jerry took such a long time over it that Uncle Jerry got quite impatient, and threatened to draw the next one himself if Ruth didn't hurry.

This time she brought out a rolled sheet of paper, and opening it found a snapshot of Betty's merry face stuck in the centre, and all around her a circle of kitten pictures. At the bottom she had written:

"DEAR RUTH:

"Once a lady told me that nothing tasted so good to her on shipboard as some home-made cookies some one had given her, so I thought I'd try it for you. I packed them in a new tin pail with a tight cover, and I hope they'll keep crisp until you can eat them.

"Arthur promised to leave them in your stateroom, so if you don't find them you'll know it's his fault.

"I shall go in often and pet Fuzzy so that he won't miss you too much.

"Yours with love and kisses,

"BETTY."

"Isn't that Betty all over?" said Mrs. Jerry with a laugh. "So practical and helpful and anxious to comfort some one, if it's only a kitten."

"That accounts for the package down below that I didn't bring up,"

said Uncle Jerry. "I didn't realize it belonged to Ruth."

"Those cookies will taste good," laughed Ruth. "She couldn't have sent anything more--more Bettyesque."

The next thing was carefully packed and required much unwrapping, but as the last paper was taken off Ruth squealed with delight over a little traveling clock in a brown leather case. Enclosed with it were five cards each bearing a message. The first one that she read said in a small, even hand: