smiling,"but she assured me that she could take care of herself,and I think she can.Even if she couldn't,she is perfectly safe.
These'personally conducted'parties are by far the best,if one goes alone,for the first time."Ruth knew that,but she was surprised,nevertheless."Won't you tell me about my aunt,Miss Ainslie?"she asked."You know I've never seen her.""Why,yes,of course I will!Where shall I begin?""At the beginning,"answered Ruth,with a little laugh.
"The beginning is very far away,deary,"said Miss Ainslie,and Ruth fancied she heard a sigh."She came here long before I did,and we were girls together.She lived in the old house at the top of the hill,with her father and mother,and I lived here with mine.We were very intimate for a long time,and then we had a quarrel,about something that was so silly and foolish that Icannot even remember what it was.For five years--no,for almost six,we passed each other like strangers,because each was too proud and stubborn to yield.But death,and trouble,brought us together again.""Who spoke first,"asked Ruth,much interested,"you or Aunt Jane?""It was I,of course.I don't believe she would have done it.She was always stronger than I,and though I can't remember the cause of the quarrel,I can feel the hurt to my pride,even at this day.""I know,"answered Ruth,quickly,"something of the same kind once happened to me,only it wasn't pride that held me back--it was just plain stubbornness.Sometimes I am conscious of two selves--one of me is a nice,polite person that I'm really fond of,and the other is so contrary and so mulish that I'm actually afraid of her.When the two come in conflict,the stubborn one always wins.I'm sorry,but I can't help it.""Don't you think we're all like that?"asked Miss Ainslie,readily understanding."I do not believe any one can have strength of character without being stubborn.To hold one's position in the face of obstacles,and never be tempted to yield --to me,that seems the very foundation.""Yes,but to be unable to yield when you know you should--that's awful.""Is it?"inquired Miss Ainslie,with quiet amusement.
"Ask Aunt Jane,"returned Ruth,laughing."I begin to perceive our definite relationship."Miss Ainslie leaned forward to put another maple log on the fire.
"Tell me more about Aunt Jane,"Ruth suggested."I'm getting to be somebody's relative,instead of an orphan,stranded on the shore of the world.""She's hard to analyse,"began the older woman."I have never been able to reconcile her firmness with her softness.She's as hard as New England granite,but I think she wears it like a mask.Sometimes,one sees through.She scolds me very often,about anything that occurs to her,but I never pay any attention to it.She says I shouldn't live here all alone,and that Ideserve to have something dreadful happen to me,but she had all the trees cut down that stood on the hill between her window and mine,and had a key made to my lower door,and made me promise that if I was ill at any time,I would put a signal in my window--a red shawl in the daytime and a light at night.I hadn't any red shawl and she gave me hers.
"One night--I shall never forget it--I had a terrible attack of neuralgia,during the worst storm I have ever known.I didn't even know that I put the light in the window--I was so beside myself with pain--but she came,at two o'clock in the morning,and stayed with me until I was all right again.She was so gentle and so tender--I shall always love her for that."The sweet voice vibrated with feeling,and Ruth's thoughts flew to the light in the attic window,but,no--it could not be seen from Miss Ainslie's."What does Aunt Jane look like?"she asked,after a pause.
"I haven't a picture,except one that was taken a long time ago,but I'll get that."She went upstairs and returned,presently,putting an old-fashioned ambrotype into Ruth's hand.
The velvet-lined case enshrined Aunt Jane in the bloom of her youth.It was a young woman of twenty or twenty-five,seated in a straight-backed chair,with her hands encased in black lace mitts and folded in the lap of her striped silk gown.The forehead was high,protruding slightly,the eyes rather small,and very dark,the nose straight,and the little chin exceedingly firm and determined.There was an expression of maidenly wistfulness somewhere,which Ruth could not definitely locate,but there was no hint of it in the chin.
