RUTH DECIDES
Ruth slept late the next morning, and when she first awoke it was with
the puzzled feeling of waking from a bad dream. Then slowly she
remembered the happenings of the previous day.
The spring sunlight filled the room. From a hawthorn tree just below her
window she could hear a robin singing as if there were nothing but
sunshine and delight in all the world. And then the big clock in the
hallway began to strike. "One! two! three! four! five! six! seven!
eight! _Nine!_" counted the little girl, and with the last stroke she
was out of bed.
Before she was dressed Aunt Deborah opened the door.
"Good-morning, Ruth," she said pleasantly, quite as if nothing had
happened on the previous day, and that Ruth had not slept two hours
later than usual. "I have brought thee thy breakfast; and thee may stay
in thy room until I call thee," and Aunt Deborah set a small tray on
the light stand near the window, and before Ruth could make any response
she had left the room.
Ruth was very hungry. She had no supper on the previous night, and she
now looked eagerly toward the little tray, which held only, a bowl and
pitcher. The bowl was nearly full of porridge, and the pitcher of creamy
milk.
That was all very well; and she ate it all, to the last spoonful. But
usually there were hot corn muffins and a bit of bacon or an egg to
follow the porridge, and Ruth was still hungry.
"Perhaps Aunt Deborah forgot," thought Ruth, "but I don't believe she
did. Perhaps she is only provoked at me for being late for breakfast!"
Ruth shook up her pillows, turned back the blankets of her bed, and then
went to the window and leaned out. There were two robins now on the top
branch of the hawthorn, and for a moment she watched them, wondering if
they were planning to build a nest there. The window overlooked the
Merrill's' garden; and in a few minutes Ruth saw Gilbert coming along the
path toward the wall.
"Lafayette! La-fay-Ettie!" she called. Gilbert looked about as if
puzzled, and Ruth called again. "I'm up-stairs. Gil-Bert!" and at this
the boy turned and looked up, and waved his hat in response.
"I've found Hero," she called. "Honest! And an English officer is going
to bring him home this very morning."
"Come on over and tell Winifred," responded Gilbert. "She has something
to tell you, too. Something fine."
"I can't come over this morning. I----" but before Ruth could say
another word she felt a firm hand on her shoulder, and she was drawn
into the room and the window closed, and Aunt Deborah was looking at her
reprovingly.
"Ruth, why did thee think I wanted thee to stay up-stairs this morning?"
she asked.
Ruth shook her head sullenly. She said to herself that no matter what
Aunt Deborah might say she would not answer.
"Well, my child, then I must tell thee. I hoped thee would think over
thy willfulness of yesterday; that thee would realize that thy conduct
was such as would grieve and shame thy father and mother. Dost thou
think it a small thing nearly to ruin thy mother's best gown? To go
dressed as if in a play to the house of an enemy of thy country to ask a
favor? And before that thee quite forgot thy good manners in rushing up
the steps of that house on Second Street, and then speaking rudely to
me, who have no wish but to be kind to thee and help thee be a good
girl."
While Aunt Deborah was speaking Ruth looked up at her, a little
frightened and sullen at first; then as she saw that Aunt Deborah's face
was pale, that she looked as if she had been crying and was nearly ready
to cry again, the little girl's heart softened, and she ran toward her
aunt, saying:
"Oh, Aunt Deborah! I am sorry I spoke rudely to you. And when I said I
did not like you it was only because I was cross and so unhappy about
Hero. I do like you, truly I do. And, oh! I did not think about General
Howe being our enemy; or that I would spoil Mother's pretty gown. I only
thought about Hero." And now Ruth was sobbing, and Aunt Deborah's arm
was about her.
But for a moment Aunt Deborah made no response; then she said:
"Dear child, thee has given me happiness again. And now let us both do
our best until thy mother returns. But thee knows that it is right for
thee to decide if thee should not be punished in some way, so that in
future thee will remember not to lose thy temper, to remember thy
manners; and above all not to stoop to deceit to gain thy wishes."
Aunt Deborah smiled happily at her little niece as she finished, as if
quite sure that Ruth would welcome her suggestion.
Ruth smiled in response. She began to think it would be rather fine to
decide on her own punishment, and resolved it should be even more severe
than any Aunt Deborah would inflict.
"Yes, Aunt Deborah, I will stay up-stairs all day. And I will eat only
porridge for my dinner and supper. I will not call from the window, and
I will knit; and not even play with Cecilia," she said eagerly.
"Very well, dear child. But beside these things thee must say over to
thyself the reason for thy punishment. Say to thyself: 'Not again will I
be rude or unkind, not again will I be thoughtless of my behavior,'"
said Aunt Deborah approvingly.
There was a loud knock at the front door, and Aunt Deborah hurried away
to answer it. In a moment Ruth heard a joyous bark.
"It's Hero! It's Hero!" she exclaimed, running toward the door. But with
her hand on the latch she stopped suddenly. She had promised that she
would not leave the room that day. She had set her own punishment for
rudeness, and for the thoughtlessness that had perhaps ruined her
mother's dress.
"Oh! I wish I hadn't dressed up," she thought, as she turned slowly away
from the door, thinking of Hero looking wistfully about for his little
mistress. She knew that Aunt Deborah would be kind to him, but not to
see Hero after he had been missing so long was a real punishment for the
little girl, and she went back to the window and stood looking out
wishing that for a punishment she had thought of something beside
staying in her room all day.
As she looked out she saw that Gilbert was still in his garden, that
Winifred was beside him, and that they were both making motions for her
to open the window.
She shook her head soberly. She could see that Winifred was greatly
excited about something, and was talking eagerly to her brother. They
both looked up at Ruth's window and again motioned with waving arms for
her to open it. After a few moments they seemed to realize that she had,
for some reason they could not imagine, been forbidden to; and with a
good-bye signal they both turned and ran toward the house.
"I do wonder what they wanted to tell me," thought Ruth. "Oh, dear! It
is dreadful to stay up here when Hero is home, and when Winifred and
Gilbert have a secret." She began to realize that she had set herself no
light punishment.
"But it wouldn't be a punishment if I were enjoying it," she finally
decided, and getting the half-finished sock from her knitting bag, she
drew a small rocking-chair to the center of the room, seated herself and
began resolutely to knit.
Now and then she could hear sounds from the rooms below; and once Ruth
dropped her knitting and started toward the door, for she had heard
Hero's plaintive whine as he waited for admittance. Then had come Aunt
Deborah's voice calling him away sternly; and Ruth picked up her
knitting, resolved to keep exactly to her promise. She wondered if Major
Andre had sent Hero home in charge of "Dick," the smiling young soldier
who had spoken to her on General Howe's door-steps. But most of all her
thoughts centered about Winifred and Gilbert.
She heard the clock strike eleven, and realized that she was very
hungry; and that an hour was a long time to wait before Aunt Deborah
would bring her bowl of porridge. A shadow darkened the window, and she
looked up with startled eyes to see Winifred's face pressed against the
glass.
Ruth ran to the window. "How did you get up here?" she questioned in
wonder.
"Open the window, quick!" Winifred responded in an anxious whisper. "The
ladder wiggles about, and somebody may see me."
Ruth opened the window and Winifred crawled in, and suddenly the ladder
disappeared.
"It's Gilbert. He promised to take it down as soon as I got in. What is
the matter, Ruth? Has Aunt Deborah made you stay up-stairs? Did you know
Hero was home? A soldier brought him." While Winifred talked she looked
at Ruth anxiously, as if to make sure that nothing had really befallen
her friend.
Ruth was smiling with delight at her unexpected visitor.
"Oh, Winifred! You were splendid to come up the ladder. I'm staying
up-stairs to punish myself. I was rude to Aunt Deborah; and last night I
dressed up in my mother's best dress and went to see General Howe!" Ruth
answered.
Winifred was too surprised to reply, and Ruth went on telling of her
sudden decision, and of the adventures that followed, and concluded
with: "And of course I ought not to have dressed up, and I ought not to
have run away. So now I am staying up-stairs all day, and all I am to
have to eat is porridge and milk. I decided it myself," she concluded,
not a little pleased at the thought.
"Why, Ruth Pernell!" exclaimed Winifred admiringly. "I don't know which
is the most wonderful, your going to see General Howe, or your deciding
to punish yourself. Begin at the time you reached the General's house
and tell me everything up to now."
Ruth was quite ready to do this, and the two little friends seated
themselves on the window-seat, Winifred listening admiringly while Ruth
told over the story of the previous night. She had forgotten all about
punishment; but a noise in the hallway and the sound of the clock
striking the hour of noon made her stop suddenly in her whispered
recital. "It's Aunt Deborah! Winifred, hide, quick! Under the bed," she
said, at the same moment giving Winifred a little push.
Aunt Deborah came in smiling and inauspicious, with a well-filled bowl
of porridge and a generous pitcher of milk on the tray. It had been a
happy morning for Aunt Deborah. Hero was safe at home, none the worse
for his adventures; and, best of all, Ruth of her own accord had
declared herself to blame, and decided that her faults should be
punished. It seemed to Aunt Deborah that after this she and her little
niece would have no more misunderstandings. She thought it a fine thing
that Ruth wished to stay by herself all that sunny spring day; and she
was sure it was no light punishment.