"Miss Thorne,"said Hepsey,from the doorway of Ruth's room,"that feller's here again."There was an unconscious emphasis on the last word,and Ruth herself was someewhat surprised,for she had not expected another call so soon.
"He's a-settinn'in the parlour,"continued Hepsey,"when he ain't a-walkin'around it and wearin'out the carpet.I didn't come up when he first come,on account of my pie crust bein'all ready to put in the oven.""How long has he been here?"asked Ruth,dabbing a bit of powder on her nose and selecting a fresh collar.
"Oh,p'raps half an hour."
"That isn't right,Hepsey;when anyone comes you must tell me immediately.Never mind the pie crust next time."Ruth endeavoured to speak kindly,but she was irritated at the necessity of making another apology.
When she went down,Winfield dismissed her excuses with a comprehensive wave of the hand."I always have to wait when I go to call on a girl,"he said;"it's one of the most charming vagaries of the ever-feminine.I used to think that perhaps Iwasn't popular,but every fellow I know has the same experience.""I'm an exception,"explained Ruth;"I never keep any one waiting.Of my own volition,that is,"she added,hastily,feeling his unspoken comment.
"I came up this afternoon to ask a favour of you,"he began.
"Won't you go for a walk with me?It's wrong to stay indoors on a day like this.""Wait till I get my hat,"said Ruth,rising.
"Fifteen minutes is the limit,"he called to her,as she went upstairs.
She was back again almost immediately,and Hepsey watched them in wide-mouthed astonishment as they went down hill together,for it was not in her code of manners that "walking out"should begin so soon.When they approached Miss Ainslie's he pointed out the brown house across from it,on the other side of the hill.
"Yonder palatial mansion is my present lodging,"he volunteered,"and I am a helpless fly in the web of the 'Widder'Pendleton.""Pendleton,"repeated Ruth;"why,that's Joe's name.""It is,"returned Winfield,concisely."He sits opposite me at the table,and wonders at my use of a fork.It is considered merely a spear for bread and meat at the 'Widder's.'I am observed closely at all times,and in some respects Joe admires me enough to attempt imitation,which,as you know,is the highest form of flattery.For instance,this morning he wore not only a collar and tie,but a scarf pin.It was a string tie,and I've never before seen a pin worn in one,but it's interesting.""It must be."
"He has a sweetheart,"Winfield went on,"and I expect she'll be dazzled.""My Hepsey is his lady love,"Ruth explained.
"What?The haughty damsel who wouldn't let me in?Do tell!""You're imitating now,"laughed Ruth,"but I shouldn't call it flattery."For a moment,there was a chilly silence.Ruth did not look at him,but she bit her lip and then laughed,unwillingly."'It's all true,"she said,"I plead guilty.""You see,I know all about you,"he went on."You knit your brows in deep thought,do not hear when you are spoken to,even in a loud voice,and your mail consists almost entirely of bulky envelopes,of a legal nature,such as came to the 'Widder'
Pendleton from the insurance people."
"Returned manuscripts,"she interjected.
"Possibly--far be it from me to say they're not.Why,I've had 'em myself.""You don't mean it!"she exclaimed,ironically.
"You seek out,as if by instinct,the only crazy person in the village,and come home greatly perturbed.You ask queer questions of your humble serving-maid,assume a skirt which is shorter than the approved model,speaking from the village standpoint,and unhesitatingly appear on the public streets.You go to the attic at night and search the inmost recesses of many old trunks.""Yes,"sighed Ruth,"I've done all that."
"At breakfast you refuse pie,and complain because the coffee is boiled.Did anybody ever hear of coffee that wasn't boiled?Is it eaten raw in the city?You call supper'dinner,'and have been known to seek nourishment at nine o'clock at night,when all respectable people are sound asleep.In your trunk,you have vainly attempted to conceal a large metal object,the use of which is unknown.""Oh,my hapless chafing-dish!"groaned Ruth.
"Chafing-dish?"repeated Winfield,brightening visibly."And Ieating sole leather and fried potatoes?From this hour I am your slave--you can't lose me now!
"Go on,"she commanded.
"I can't--the flow of my eloquence is stopped by rapturous anticipation.Suffice it to say that the people of this enterprising city are well up in the ways of the wicked world,for the storekeeper takes The New York Weekly and the 'Widder'
Pendleton subscribes for The Fireside Companion.The back numbers,which are not worn out,are the circulating library of the village.It's no use,Miss Thorne--you might stand on your hilltop and proclaim your innocence until you were hoarse,and it would be utterly without effect.Your status is definitely settled.""How about Aunt Jane?"she inquired."Does my relationship count for naught?""Now you are rapidly approaching the centre of things,"replied the young man."Miss Hathaway is one woman in a thousand,though somewhat eccentric.She is the venerated pillar of the community and a constant attendant it church,which it seems you are not.
