In the Way Read Free Page B

he used to sit on it, in his little gingham apron, and his mother would come to the door and give him a large piece of warm gingerbread, standing there a minute to watch his enjoyment as he ate, and saying in soft tones, “Mother's dear little boy.”
                  His heart was so soft over Ruth's words that when he awkwardly helped her out of the wagon he had an impulse to kiss her. He restrained it, of course. All his life training since his mother died had been to restrain any such sentimental impulses as that, but the impulse had made his heart warm, nevertheless. It is a pity he did not give way to that impulse, for Ruth, suddenly ushered into that dreary kitchen, and left alone with the injunction to sit down and rest herself until her brother put out the horse, felt such a rush of desolation come upon her as almost overpowered her.
                  She sat down in Aunt Nancy's old rocking chair and buried her face in her hands. What did it all mean? Was there nobody left who cared for her? Did her brother not know what to do with her? Was she an unwelcome guest? That had not occurred to her before. Now it brought a sickening loneliness. She had been rash, after all, as her old lawyer friend had told her, in rushing off to brothers she did not know without any warning to them or any chance to hear from them. Yet she had thought when she prayed to be guided that her direction had been to come here. Could it be that she was mistaken? Perhaps her own desire for the love of some one who belonged to her had made her mistake her desires for God's guidance! Then came another thought. Perhaps he had wanted her to come here after all, and though there might not be comfort for her, still he might intend that there was something she could do for her brothers. Perhaps they did not know Jesus Christ. Her heart went out in great longing for them. She wanted to be sure that they were Christians. If they were Christians, then surely there would be a tie between them even stronger than blood. If they were not, then she must stay and try to lead them to Christ. She slipped down on her knees beside the old calico-cushioned rocker and asked her Saviour for help and guidance, promising to try to do whatever he wanted her to do here in this home, no matter how hard it might seem, if he would only stay with her and help her. Then she got up, resolutely wiped away the tears, and looked about her. She forced herself to take in every detail of that room. It did not take long, for the kitchen had not much in it. She even walked over and looked at the chromos of bright red and pink roses framed in pine cones, hanging on each side of the little high clock shelf, and took in the fact of the smoky kerosene lamp, realizing that there would be no gas in this house.
                  Then with a glance out of the window, to make sure David was not at the door, she went over to the pantry with swift determination. David had told her during the drive that Aunt Nancy was dead, and that they were living alone, and she began to wonder how they lived. Did they board, or what? She stood in the door in wonder. The great piece of ham, the half-loaf of bread, the broken cheese, and bag of crackers told a pitiful tale to her. She applied the tip of her nose to the baker's bread, and then straightened up suddenly with an involuntary “Ugh!”
                  Something of her amazement, disgust, and pity, mingled, must have been in her face as she turned at a slight sound behind her and saw her elder brother standing hopelessly in the door. He would not willingly have had her see that pantry. He had fixed it all, out in the barn, while he unharnessed Old Gray. He would go right over to the Barneses and take board for his sister, and then he and Joe could go over and call upon her often and keep her from being lonely. The old house was no place for her, and of course she could not cat there. It was all well enough for