_NORMAN'S SUPPER._
AFTER tea, the pony was bridled, and the three Indian children enjoyed
a ride. Heston tried it first and pronounced it very nice, but not
quite up to his pony in India, and yielded it up to Judith, who was not
so particular as to pony breed. She in her turn quickly yielded it to
Norman, who stood looking longingly at the sleek little white creature,
who was as quiet as a lamb, Judith said.
So Heston lifted him up, and with promises not to let go, led him up
and down the quiet lane for half an hour.
"How kind he is!" said Ruth, looking after the party as they turned for
the third time.
"Very," responded Dr. Arundel; "in fact, I never saw such devotion as
they all show."
"Do you think 'massage' would do him good?" asked Ruth, rather shyly,
drawing nearer to Dr. Arundel. "And if so, could I learn to do it? I
think I could."
"Quite easily," he answered.
"I have not had time to speak to my father, yet," said Ruth, blushing
as if she had been interfering, "but I keep on thinking of all the
things that might help him. And being so much with my father, I pick up
a few stray bits of information!"
Arthur smiled. "Do not hesitate to tell us any suggestion. This is a
case apparently of a purely nervous nature, and ordinary means will not
be so likely to do good."
Vincent and Mary had strolled on in front, and were going to see the
ruin. And Ruth proposed that "as they had done their medical talk!" she
and Dr. Arundel should follow them.
At length, there seemed to be a great stir in the yard, with sounds of
the horses being led out, and then one of the men came forward to ask
if Dr. Arundel was ready to return.
"Why, it is seven o'clock already!" exclaimed Vincent. "How quickly the
time has gone."
"That is better than its dragging," said Ruth. "I have not enjoyed
anything so much since—oh, not for years! I only wish my father had
come."
They all packed into the wagonette again, and with pleasant farewells
to their entertainers, the happy party turned homewards.
When they reached The Firs, Mary and Dr. Arundel would not alight, but
said they would be taken home at once. So with good-byes and earnest
thanks from Ruth and Heston, there was great waving of hands and hats,
and Ruth found herself standing on the steps in the soft evening light
with her little family round her.
"What shall we do next, Heston?" she asked, as they turned to the
dining-room.
"Oh, Ruth! Here is supper spread, and I am so hungry! Mrs. Arundel's
tea was splendiferous, but I declare I could eat a—a haystack!"
"You shall have something better than that! But I suppose farm talk
will be the order of the day till the next excitement! Judith, what
could you eat?"
But Judith was too dignified to respond to the joke. She hardly
answered, but acknowledged on being pressed by Heston that she should
not mind some supper.
Norman asked in his silent finger-talk to go to bed, and Ruth promised
to bring him some supper when Mala came to announce his being ready.
"'I' take him his supper," said Mala.
Ruth glanced at her in surprise, and then said gently and firmly, "Let
me know when he is ready, Mala," and took her place at the head of the
table.
Judith sat very silent, and evidently was uneasy. Mala had hitherto
ruled them all, and it was too astonishing for anyone to rule Mala!
Ruth saw what it involved, and inwardly quaked. Then she remembered
that Mary had said, "In every difficulty, ask for counsel of God; He
will help you."
So she sat silent, thinking of Mary's advice, and trying to follow her
in her straightforward desire to please God and do the next thing.
At that moment, her father entered, and Heston was pleased to tell him
all the delights of the day.
"Judith," whispered Ruth, "would you go up and tell Norman what is on
the table, and ask him what he would like best? You and I will take it
up to him, while Mala has her supper."
Judith's eyes looked grateful. She softly left the room, and then Ruth
breathed more freely. She hoped the difficulty had blown over.
At length, Judith came down, her face rather pale, and her eyes looking
anxious again.
"Norman would like some apple and custard," she said, hesitating, "but
Mala says she is sure he cannot eat it without her, and she would
rather stay and see to him—if you do not mind, Cousin Ruth."
Judith added the last sentence in a beseeching tone.
"I think you and I can manage," said Ruth.
And then she went over and held a whispered conversation with her
father, which resulted in his saying, "I'll see it through. If there is
any trouble, just call me!"
"But we have to think of Norman," whispered Ruth.
"Indeed we have. I'll not forget that."
So she and Judith and the apple and custard went up together.
Norman was in bed, and Mala was seated by his side with a stony look on
her face.
"Take it in, dear," said Ruth, pausing at the door, "and tell Mala I
want to speak to her."
Ruth stood within view, silently waiting. And after a few moments, in
which Judith had evidently whispered advice to Mala, the ayah got up
slowly and glided to the door.
Ruth stepped across to her own room, and then spoke in an undertone,
which she feared was trembling, though there was no hesitation in her
intentions.
"Mala," she said, raising her eyes and looking full into the dark face,
"if you wish to do Norman a kindness, and to remain here to attend
upon him, you will have to do exactly as you are told! My father hopes
we may be able to do him good, and make him happier than he has ever
been—but remember what I have said."
With a stately tread, Ruth passed the astonished ayah, and before she
could recover her surprise, Ruth was already seated by her little
cousin, asking him smilingly how "his" "haystack" tasted!
How her heart was beating!
But Norman responded with a bright look, and Judith waited upon him and
put his food temptingly ready, and all went well.
When at length he would take no more, Judith carried away his tray, and
Ruth bent over him to wish him good-night.
"Dear little boy," she said, lovingly. "I do love you! And I have
thought of ever so many things that may do you good! You will trust me,
will you not?"
Norman squeezed her hand for Yes, and with a pleased look lay back on
the pillows.
When Judith returned, he took her hand eagerly and rapidly spelt out—
"Ask her if she thinks I shall some day be able to talk?"
"We have great hopes of it," said Ruth, tenderly, "if it is God's will."
The child understood.
"You know, Norman," Ruth added, "since I have begun to love Jesus, I
pray about everything! So we can pray about this, and if God sees it is
good for us, and best, He will give it to us!"
Judith came close to Ruth's side, and put both her arms round her neck.
"Oh, Cousin Ruth, Cousin Ruth," she whispered, with a sob, "I'll pray
too, though—though—I never have before!"