_THE LETTER THAT WAS POSTED._
WHEN Ruth went upstairs, Dr. Brown crossed the carpeted hall and shut
himself in his study. He paced up and down the floor for a long time,
with his head bent down and his hands clasped behind him.
Presently, he unlocked a drawer and took out a thin, closely written
letter, and after reading it carefully, he resumed his walk up and down
again.
Was Ruth lonely? Was he allowing his own desolate feeling to injure the
child whom he loved so tenderly?
"I'll write," he ejaculated, half aloud; "I'll write this very night!
My only brother has a great claim on me, and some bright young people
will do Ruth good! I'll write to-night and make them welcome. I can't
say it is what I should have chosen, but there is no one to advise me
now. It will be some young life for Ruth, and, after all, this house is
very large and empty for two!"
He sat down to his desk and wrote busily for half an hour. Then he
chose a thin envelope, stamped it with a foreign stamp, and, putting
on his hat, took it to the post himself, thinking with a grim little
smile, "Ruth is always coaxing me to go for 'constitutionals,' so now I
will carry out her wishes!"
Little did the sleeping girl upstairs know that the whole course of her
life was to be altered by that letter!
Dr. Brown managed not to forget the birthday greetings, even though
he was decidedly full of his new partner, and was discussing possible
houses with Ruth and Dr. Arundel all breakfast-time.
Dr. Arundel left the moment after, having some letters to write at his
lodgings.
And Dr. Brown turned to Ruth with, "Well, my dear! He's a nice fellow,
isn't he?"
"Oh, I like him!" she exclaimed warmly.
Before Dr. Brown went out on his rounds, he had a moment's private
conversation with Mrs. Morris, which resulted in nods and smiles
on her part and on his, while he added, "Go to Hickson's; they are
trustworthy."
"Good-bye, my precious," he said, more cheerily than usual, to his
daughter as he ran down the steps. "Take care of yourself, and come
back to your old father as soon as you can!"
"So I will," she answered brightly, "and to-morrow, I shall have a
friend!"
"Eh?" he asked, pausing with the carriage door in his hand. "Eh?"
"Young Mrs. Arundel—"
"Oh, don't fix your hopes too much," he answered, with the caution of
experience; "new friends are not always what you expect—"
"But I've heard of those girls—and somehow anybody Mr. Arundel had
liked so long—"
"Yes, yes! Good-bye; I must go."
It was afternoon by the time Ruth and Mrs. Morris had done their
shopping, and they timed their return so that the carriage should take
them up on its way home, and thus save them the long walk up the hill
to The Firs.
They found Dr. Brown seated in it.
And the moment Ruth got in, she exclaimed: "Oh, you dear, naughty
extravagant father! To think of such a present as this! Oh, I feel as
if I had asked for more than I ought! 'Did' you think it was nasty of
me?"
She drew out of her little handbag a morocco case, and on opening it,
displayed a lovely little gold watch.
"So you like it?" asked her father.
"Like it? Why I can't tell you—"
"Then do not. I thought you and Morris would be able to find something—"
"But fancy your giving her all that money! I shall value it so much."
"Now I suppose the next thing will be a chain?" he said, pretending to
be grim.
"Oh, no—I can—I can work one, or—"
"I'll see to that. 'I' must go into Worcester now, I suppose, and see
what I can get."
So they talked on, until Ruth exclaimed suddenly, "What about Dr.
Arundel?"
"Oh, he's all right. The patients seem pleased with him, and there's
something so straight about him that I think he will take."
"When is he going to send for Mrs. Arundel?"
"He has sent already. The lodgings seem to be comfortable, and she will
be down to-morrow, I think."
"Then will he come up to dinner to-night?"
"No; he wants to make the rooms a little bright for her, and has
ordered in a few things, a plant or two, and so on."
"I wish I could help—"
"Oh, there is nothing much can be done with apartments, but what can
be, he has done. It will not be for long, you see."
"Did you show him those two houses?"
"Yes, and when she comes, she will choose. He would not even go to see
them till she came."
"That's nice!"
"You think so? Well, that is evidently what he thinks. Here we are at
home. Morris, I expect you are tired?"
"Thank you, sir; I've enjoyed myself very much," answered the
housekeeper, delighted at the brightness of Ruth's face, and that the
dreaded birthday was passing so happily.
Dr. Brown had a call that evening, so that there was no time to tell
his daughter of the new plans which filled his thoughts, and of which
that letter, on its way to India, was the expression. And as he walked
down to the town so as not to use the carriage again, he had plenty of
time to think over what he had done.
"After all, I do not think I shall say anything about it till I hear
from my brother George; it is not worth while," he thought. "George
may not be willing to part with them after all, and if he does not, it
would be a pity to raise Ruth's hopes. I wonder if she will like it?"
He paused a moment, almost with a start. But he was accustomed to think
that whatever he liked, Ruth would like, and wondering within himself
that he could have had a momentary misgiving, he dismissed it, and went
on with his soliloquy.
"It will be very nice for her to have companions, and they are near
enough her own age, too. There's Heston, the eldest boy; he's fifteen.
He'll have to go to school at Worcester, and come back for week-ends.
Then there's Judith; she's twelve, he says. And there is little
Norman; he's eight. Heigho! It's a pretty great care! But George is in
ill-health, and he is anxious about these children, and I am afraid he
does not expect to get better. I'd like to do anything I could for him,
poor fellow!"
"So Ruth is seventeen to-day! She is getting quite a little woman! But,
really, she's not much more than a child! No—she has a year or two yet
before her."
He strode on. He almost began to wish he had not posted that letter
without asking Ruth what she thought of it. But it was gone, and now
there was nothing but to wait.
"Dr. Arundel will take these evening calls for me by and by," he went
on to himself, "and I am sure he will be liked. How kindly he sat down
this morning by that young man. And while we were talking about the
case, I saw him soothing the man's pain by passing his hand up and
down his spine as he lay there. I wondered what made the poor fellow's
face change, and a look of relief come into it. Dr. Arundel had no
need to do it, and yet—yes, that was a bit of his character that came
out unexpectedly. If I do not mistake, he will not let anyone have any
suffering that he can relieve! But I greatly fear he is—rather too
religious!"
But Dr. Brown had come to his patient's, and went in from the darkness
to try to relieve another case of suffering.