_"SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR."_
DR. BROWN and his guest came to the drawing-room for a cup of coffee,
but quickly went back to the library to talk over "the practice," and
Ruth was alone once more.
Were all her days to pass thus? A music or German lesson in the
morning, a few odd callers in the afternoon varied by an occasional
cycle ride with an old schoolfellow, then back to be ready for her
father's cup of tea, then violin practice till it was time to dress
for dinner. After which, if her father were at home, she would listen
to his paper, or hear his news of his patients. But if he were out, a
long, dreary solitude, with nothing to relieve it.
When the library door shut, Ruth's first impulse was to lean back in
her chair and enjoy her own thoughts. But she was an energetic girl,
and she shook off her dreaminess and turned to the piano, choosing a
difficult sonata that would be real hard work.
An hour passed thus, and then she heard Dr. Arundel go out at the front
door, and she went to the library at once to find her father.
"Well, little girl," he said briskly, "I think I shall get on with
him. Now we will go and have half an hour's music. I have heard you
practising."
"But, father, I thought he was going to stay the night here!"
"So he is. But he has taken some lodgings for a week, and he has had to
go back to tell them he will not be there to-night."
"Taken them for a week! How did he know of them?"
"Well, my dear, I did not ask him that. I suppose he knew someone here;
he did not say. Now, if you have done questioning me, can I have some
music?"
"Oh, I have not heard anything yet! Do tell me—"
"Eh? There is nothing special to tell you. He is very nice, and much
more friendly than I expected."
"Yes—but 'is' he married? Did you find that out?"
"Married? Yes, I told you so. I thought when I saw him in Northampton
he said so. He has taken these lodgings here that he may look round,
and then his wife will come, and they will choose a house together."
"Oh, I see! Well, I'm glad. I wonder what she will be like?"
"He speaks very highly of her. She was a Miss Linthorpe. Do you not
remember that my cousin, Mr. Brown, of Grange Park, married one of
those girls? Very nice people, I believe."
"Oh, I know! Alice—that was the name of the one who married Mr. Brown.
I have heard ever so much about them. Is this one young or old?" asked
Ruth eagerly.
"Young, I should think. It seems he had fixed his heart on her years
ago."
"Now, that is nice," said Ruth enthusiastically. "I shall like them, I
do believe."
"May I have my music now?" he asked, smiling a little.
"Oh, yes! But you cannot wonder that I wanted to know about Dr. Arundel
and his wife! Why, father, to have a friend will be something to live
for!"
"Something to live for?" Dr. Brown looked at her anxiously for a moment.
Was her life too cramped and dull up here at The Firs? Was he keeping
his treasure to himself to her detriment?
That must be thought of in those long hours when she was gone to bed,
and when he generally paced sorrowfully up and down his lonely library.
So, putting aside the anxious thoughts till another time, he said
cheerfully: "By the bye, Morris says I am to tell you what I am going
to spend, and she thinks you would like to get your birthday present
yourself. That's a good idea. Let's see. Would this get anything you
want?"
He fished in his pocket, and laid two sovereigns in her palm.
"Oh, father!" said Ruth, colouring. "Not all that!"
"Too much, is it? Then put some in the bank. No, I'm not going to take
it back. Cannot you think of anything you want?"
"Oh, I never thought of so much as this," exclaimed Ruth, "but I do
want—only I am afraid it seems grasping of me—but I think this would
buy a little silver watch! My old one is quite worn out. Would it,
father?"
"I really do not know. You and Morris find out at Worcester to-morrow.
And if it will not, I'll tell her she can spend a little more."
"Oh, no," said Ruth. "I feel sure it would."
"That is all right, then. Now play me something soothing, and then you
shall go to bed. I shall be up for Dr. Arundel."
Ruth kissed and thanked him.
And soon after, she bade him good-night, and went to her room.
There stood Morris waiting for her.
"Look, Morris!" exclaimed Ruth. "Am I not a lucky girl?"
"Very, Miss," smiled Morris; "what a nice treat for us to go to
Worcester. And to get your present, too!"
For Morris was very anxious that this birthday should be as cheerful as
possible, for she thought sadly what a change had come over the bright
prospects of her young lady in that short, and yet long, year.
She often looked in the sweet girlish face and wondered how things
were prospering within. She had a vague idea that Ruth's life was too
monotonous and quiet; that the girl wanted something more than to go
for her occasional lessons in the morning, practice all the afternoon,
and fill her time with gentle ministrations to her bereaved father. No
outside life seemed to touch her. Dr. Brown discouraged visitors, and
Ruth confided to Morris that she found he was more weary and depressed
after anyone had spent the evening with her than he was when they two
sat together quietly.
Ruth was busily thinking her own thoughts, and she burst out with
unusual eagerness:—
"And what do you think, Morris? Dr. Arundel 'is' married, and his wife
is one of those Miss Linthorpes that live near father's cousin, Mr.
Brown! Don't you remember he married one of them?"
"Oh, I know! The one that lost his two sons on the ice. Well, to be
sure!"
"Yes, and Dr. Arundel is going to telegraph for his wife to-morrow, and
if she is nice, I shall have a friend!"
"I hope she will be, miss; you must not be in too great a hurry,"
smiled the housekeeper.
"No—but, Morris, I can't tell how lonely I am. I do hope she will be
nice, but I feel sure she will!"
Morris had not seen her so animated since the beginning of her mother's
illness.
And when she left Ruth that night, she saw that her birthday and going
to Worcester had faded into the background, while the new hope of a
human friendship had done her all the good in the world.
What would this friend be? wondered the steady old servant, as she made
her way to her own domain.
"Well, well! The Lord knows," she said to herself, resting her anxiety
on Him who cared for her: "Old Morris doesn't know everything, that's
certain, and somehow or other He'll see to my young lady for me! I
haven't prayed for her since the day she was born for nothing! The Lord
doesn't disappoint His children so!"