Ruth Read Free

came both the pain and the cough would go away. She
would be prudent about herself.
    What was the matter with Ruth? She was crying in her sleep as if her
heart would break. Such agitated slumber could be no rest; so Jenny
wakened her.
    "Ruth! Ruth!"
    "Oh, Jenny!" said Ruth, sitting up in bed, and pushing back the
masses of hair that were heating her forehead, "I thought I saw mamma
by the side of the bed, coming, as she used to do, to see if I were
asleep and comfortable; and when I tried to take hold of her, she
went away and left me alone—I don't know where; so strange!"
    "It was only a dream; you know you'd been talking about her to me,
and you're feverish with sitting up late. Go to sleep again, and I'll
watch, and waken you if you seem uneasy."
    "But you'll be so tired. Oh, dear! dear!" Ruth was asleep again, even
while she sighed.
    Morning came, and though their rest had been short, the girls arose
refreshed.
    "Miss Sutton, Miss Jennings, Miss Booth, and Miss Hilton, you will
see that you are ready to accompany me to the shire-hall by eight
o'clock."
    One or two of the girls looked astonished, but the majority,
having anticipated the selection, and knowing from experience the
unexpressed rule by which it was made, received it with the sullen
indifference which had become their feeling with regard to most
events—a deadened sense of life, consequent upon their unnatural
mode of existence, their sedentary days, and their frequent nights of
late watching.
    But to Ruth it was inexplicable. She had yawned, and loitered, and
looked off at the beautiful panel, and lost herself in thoughts of
home, until she fully expected the reprimand which at any other time
she would have been sure to receive, and now, to her surprise, she
was singled out as one of the most diligent!
    Much as she longed for the delight of seeing the noble
shire-hall—the boast of the county—and of catching glimpses of the
dancers, and hearing the band; much as she longed for some variety to
the dull, monotonous life she was leading, she could not feel happy
to accept a privilege, granted, as she believed, in ignorance of the
real state of the case; so she startled her companions by rising
abruptly and going up to Mrs Mason, who was finishing a dress which
ought to have been sent home two hours before:
    "If you please, Mrs Mason, I was not one of the most diligent; I am
afraid—I believe—I was not diligent at all. I was very tired; and
I could not help thinking, and when I think, I can't attend to my
work." She stopped, believing she had sufficiently explained her
meaning; but Mrs Mason would not understand, and did not wish for any
further elucidation.
    "Well, my dear, you must learn to think and work too; or, if you
can't do both, you must leave off thinking. Your guardian, you know,
expects you to make great progress in your business, and I am sure
you won't disappoint him."
    But that was not to the point. Ruth stood still an instant, although
Mrs Mason resumed her employment in a manner which any one but a "new
girl" would have known to be intelligible enough, that she did not
wish for any more conversation just then.
    "But as I was not diligent I ought not to go, ma'am. Miss Wood was
far more industrious than I, and many of the others."
    "Tiresome girl!" muttered Mrs Mason; "I've half a mind to keep her
at home for plaguing me so." But, looking up, she was struck afresh
with the remarkable beauty which Ruth possessed; such a credit to the
house, with her waving outline of figure, her striking face, with
dark eyebrows and dark lashes, combined with auburn hair and a fair
complexion. No! diligent or idle, Ruth Hilton must appear to-night.
    "Miss Hilton," said Mrs Mason, with stiff dignity, "I am not
accustomed (as these young ladies can tell you) to have my decisions
questioned. What I say, I mean; and I have my reasons. So sit down,
if you please, and take care and be ready by eight. Not a word more,"
as she fancied she saw Ruth again about to