Glenloch Girls Part 4

"She's every bit as nice as a fairy G.o.d-mother," said a gay voice, and Ruth turned suddenly to see standing in the doorway a plump, red-haired girl with a fuzzy black kitten nestling on her shoulder.

"On, you are Betty, I know," cried Ruth, much to the astonishment of her guest.

"I am, but I don't see how you knew," answered Betty, opening her brown eyes very wide.

"Oh, the fairy G.o.dmother wrote me about you," laughed Ruth, "and I've looked at your picture at intervals all the way on from Chicago."

"Then you know Charlotte and Dorothy, too, and we shan't seem like strangers," said Betty with great satisfaction. "I live just across the street, and I saw you come and knew Mrs. Hamilton had gone in town, so I thought I'd run over and see you."

Ruth smiled gratefully. "I'm glad you did, for I do feel just a bit lonesome. What a darling kitten," she continued, stroking the soft head as the black mite blinked sleepily at her and stretched out a tiny paw.

"I thought I'd bring him over," said Betty, "because kittens are such a comfort to me, and I hoped you liked them, too. Mrs. Hamilton says you may have a kitten if you want one, and I thought this one would look so well on your white rug that I chose him."

"Is he really for me?" cried Ruth as she took him gently in her arms and sat down on the rug. "You couldn't have brought me anything I should have liked better. I had to give away my kitten when I left home and I had begun to miss the dear thing already."

"I told the girls I was sure you liked kittens," said Betty triumphantly, "and now I shall crow over them, for they are always laughing at me for liking them so much. Charlotte says that a kitten is my trade-mark."

"Tell me about Charlotte," said Ruth eagerly. "Is she as much like her picture as you are?"

"Charlotte is a dear, and I know you'll like her, though some of the girls call her queer and odd and never do get really acquainted with her. She's tall and thin and doesn't look very strong, and I'm afraid you won't think her a bit pretty. I'm so fond of her, though, that she always looks pretty to me," ended Betty loyally, trying to do full justice to her friend and yet be honest.

"She sounds interesting," murmured Ruth, rubbing the sleepy kitten under its chin and beginning to feel less homesick.

"Interesting! I should say so!" replied Betty energetically. "Why, she's the cleverest girl I know; there isn't anything she can't do; and she writes the most beautiful stories. I don't see how, for it's more than I can do to write the essays we have in school."

"I don't mind so much writing essays, but I do hate arithmetic and algebra, and I never can get them through my head. Papa says I must go to school here, but I'm afraid I shan't be far enough along to go in the cla.s.s with you," said Ruth soberly.

"Oh, that will be too bad. But if you can't, you can probably go in with Dorothy, for she's a cla.s.s behind Charlotte and me. Dolly's great fun," continued Betty; "she has long braids of really golden hair, and blue eyes and the prettiest color in her cheeks. She's full of fun and always ready for a good time. Her father has a great deal of money, I suppose, for she has an allowance and lots of pretty clothes, and doesn't have to economize the way Charlotte and I do."

"I have an allowance, but it isn't a very big one and I never know where it goes to," confessed Ruth. "Papa wants me to keep a cash account this winter, and send it over to him every month. but I know I shall make awful work of it."

"I tried it once when grandma gave me five dollars to spend just as I liked," said Betty with a laugh. "I got along pretty well considering it was the first time, but when I came to balance it I was forty-three cents short and so I wrote at the end, 'Gone, I know not where, forty-three cents.' I showed it to father, and he has never got over it; he said it was the most poetical entry he had ever seen in a cash account."

Just then there was a knock at the door, and Betty opened it to find Ellen standing there, with her face wreathed in smiles and a tray in her hands.

"Mr. Arthur thought you might be hungry, Miss," she said to Ruth, "and so I brought you up a cup of chocolate and a bit of bread and b.u.t.ter to make you last till dinner time. I thought perhaps Miss Betty might like some, too," she added with a sly smile.

"Did you ever know the time when I wasn't ready for a cup of your chocolate, Ellen?" replied Betty enthusiastically. "She makes the best chocolate you ever tasted, Ruth."

"Oh, now you're flatterin' me, Miss Betty, dear," said Ellen, backing out of the door in pretended confusion.

"Not a bit of it. You know it's so yourself," called Betty as the door closed. "Wasn't it nice of Arthur to think of it?" she added, as they settled down to their cozy lunch.

"Very," answered Ruth, who, at sight of the thin bread and b.u.t.ter and the steaming chocolate topped with small mountains of whipped cream, had just found out that she was really hungry and couldn't wait another moment.

While the girls had been talking, Arthur had been trying to make up his mind to start up the stairs again. The flight looked endless to him, and after the excitement and effort he had just been through he felt weak and miserable. Time after time he decided to start, and once he got as far as the stairs, but a sudden sound drove him back to the hall sofa again. How could he tell that Betty might not come down at any minute and perhaps bring Ruth with her? At last a brilliant idea struck him. Ruth must be hungry after her journey, and if Ellen should take up a lunch it would keep them busy for some time at least. He made his way out into the kitchen, where Ellen received him with wonder and delight, and almost cried over him, so great was her joy at seeing him down-stairs once more.

Then, having waited until the tray was safely in Ruth's room, he started up-stairs. It was no small undertaking to hitch along, one stair at a time, dragging a stiff, painful leg, and pulling his crutches after him. At last, however, with only three more stairs before him, he stopped to rest a moment and began to breathe more easily.

"There," said Ruth, as she finished her last piece of bread and b.u.t.ter and set down her cup with hardly a drop in it, "I feel like another girl. I didn't know how hungry I was. I couldn't eat any dinner on the train because I felt so badly over leaving papa and----"

A strange noise interrupted her. A noise of some one or something clattering, b.u.mping, sliding down-stairs.

"What do you think it is, Betty?" asked Ruth turning pale.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," answered Betty, who had already started for the hall. As they reached the top of the stairs they stopped short, for there sat Arthur, very red, very much out of breath and, it must be confessed, very cross.

"Oh, Arthur, how you scared us! I thought some one was just about killed," cried Betty.

"It was those confounded crutches," answered Arthur gruffly. "They slipped just as I reached the top stair, and I nearly broke my neck trying to catch them. I don't see how I am going to get into my room unless you'll get them for me, Betty," he added helplessly.

"Why, of course; how stupid of me not to think of it!" said Betty, as she slipped by him and ran lightly down the stairs.

Ruth stood in the hall feeling very ill at ease. She wished Arthur would laugh and make things seem less solemn. Then as he didn't look at her or say a word she went back into her room again.

"Wasn't that too bad?" said Betty softly as she came in and closed the door. "Arthur is dreadfully sensitive about his lameness, and I am afraid it will take him a long time to get over this afternoon's experience. Why, just think, this is the first time I've seen him since his accident."

Betty was trying to look sober, but her eyes were dancing with merriment in spite of her efforts. Finally she gave a half-stifled little laugh as she said, "I was dreadfully sorry for him, but he was so funny sitting there at the top of the stairs and looking so dignified and cross. I almost know he'd been doing his best to get up without letting us hear him."

Betty's laugh was irresistible, and Ruth, who had been on the verge of either laughter or tears ail day, couldn't help joining in.

"Oh, oh," laughed Betty, burying her face in a cushion. "Sh, sh, he'll hear us," she gasped, as Ruth gave an answering peal of laughter. "It's dreadful of us," said Betty at last, sitting up and wiping her eyes, "to laugh at that poor boy. I'm just ashamed."

"So am I," gasped Ruth, "but you're really too funny when you laugh and I couldn't help it."

Betty's eyes twinkled, and Ruth looked as though a fresh burst were imminent when a pleasant voice said in the doorway:

"Well, I hear that my girl has stolen a march on me and got here before I expected her. Your father's telegram has only just arrived, my dear, and I am so sorry that I wasn't here to welcome you."

Ruth looked with eager curiosity at the tall, gracious woman who came toward her. Then she put both hands into the welcoming ones outstretched to meet her, and said with a little quiver in her voice:

"Papa said that the moment I saw you I should feel at home, and I do."

CHAPTER IV

A NEW CLUB

The first days in the new home, while Mr. Shirley was still in New York and within reach, were hard to bear and unpleasant to think of afterward. The new friends were so anxious to help her through the hard time that they scarcely gave her time to think, but in spite of their kindness, Ruth went to bed at night with a lonesome ache in her throat, and got up in the morning with the wild desire to take the first train to New York and catch papa before he should sail.

When at last the day and hour of sailing had come and gone, Ruth found it easier to resign herself to the inevitable, and began to really enjoy life instead of only seeming to do so.

Glenloch was a beautiful town, just far enough from Boston to make it seem like the country, and yet near enough so that concerts and shopping were within easy reach. To Ruth, who, except for brief visits East, had been accustomed ail her life to the level stretches of the Middle West, the New England hills, just now radiant in their autumn coloring were a constant source of delight.

She had been kept so busy seeing Glenloch, meeting Mrs. Hamilton's friends and getting acquainted with her own special chums that she had hardly had time to settle her belongings. Sat.u.r.day morning, therefore, found her at work in good earnest, for the girls were coming in that afternoon, and she wanted her pretty room to look its prettiest.

"Not homesick, I hope, dear," said Mrs. Hamilton, coming into the room about noon to find Ruth curled up in the big armchair with the black kitten on her lap.