A Journey
ALTHOUGH Ruth had still a very vague idea of the meaning of a receipt,
she was still sufficiently impressed with its importance to hold to
it very tenaciously and she carried it securely folded in a little
old-fashioned bead bag which had belonged to Henrietta and which, in
imitation of her Aunt Lillie, she had asked Katie to fasten securely to
her belt.
It was a clear, cold winter's day. Katie had at first insisted upon
dressing the child in her newer and more fashionable clothes which
Mrs. Mayfield had provided for her, but Ruth begged so earnestly to be
allowed to wear the red coat and plaid poplin dress that Katie yielded,
compromising by placing upon the little girl's head a pretty beaver hat
with its plumes which, as she said, gave her a bit of style.
Martin, shorn of his livery and in every-day clothes, lost some of
his stateliness and looked an ordinary somebody. He rode on the box
of the carriage with the coachman while Ruth, inside, was driven to
the railway station, her heart beating fast and her eyes bright with
excitement.
She put her hand confidently in Martin's when she was lifted from the
carriage and possessing himself of the valise in which Katie had packed
Ruth's clothing, the butler took his way to the cars, smiling down at
the child as he seated himself by her side.
"Now, ain't this a frolic?" he said. "I don't know when I would have
got to see John Fox if it hadn't been for you, and now here I'm
travelin' off to Springdale with a young lady."
The hours seemed long but, as she drew nearer and nearer to her
destination and certain points along the way began to look familiar,
Ruth could scarcely restrain herself. She bobbed up and down in her
seat, chattered like a magpie to Martin and once in a while gave a
little squeak of pleasure as some well-known landmark caught her
attention.
At the last stop before reaching Springdale, a portly gentleman entered
the car where Ruth and her escort sat. As she caught sight of him Ruth
sprang to her feet with an exclamation of surprise and pleasure.
"Dr. Peaslee," she cried in such shrill excited tones that persons
turned their heads to see, and smiled when a little red-coated figure
darted into the aisle and precipitated herself against the portly man
with the humorous eyes and kind smile.
"Why, Ruth, little Ruth!" exclaimed the doctor, "Where under canopy did
you come from and where are you going?"
"I'm going to Springdale; Martin is taking me."
The doctor piloted her to a seat across the aisle from the one in which
she had been sitting.
"And who is Martin?" he asked.
"He is Uncle Sidney's butler. There he is over there." She indicated
Martin by a nod in his direction.
"He is a nice man, a very nice man, indeed," Ruth went on. "He looks
much finer in his livery, and he is very stern and straight when he is
in the dining-room though you wouldn't think it to see him now when he
looks just like any one else."
"But why is he taking you to Springdale?" asked the doctor.
"Oh, because there wasn't any one else to do it and it was a good
chance for him to go to see John Fox. Do you know John Fox? Uncle is
away on business and Aunt Lillie has taken Bertie to Lakewood. Bertie
is horrid, doctor; he broke my dear little mug that Billy gave me just
because I wouldn't let him have Hetty to break up. Would you have given
her to him?"
"Hardly, I think, for that purpose."
"He is a dreadfully spoiled child," said Ruth sighing, "but Aunt Lillie
thought he might get ammonia or something because he had a cold, and
she took him away. Then Mademoiselle wanted to go see a sick lady, so I
stayed with Katie and Maria and Martin because I didn't want to go to
Lakewood. Did you get my letter?" she asked suddenly.
"Why no," the doctor answered. "Have you been writing to me? Then that
is a pleasure I have in store for me when I get home. You see I have
been away for several days. I am just getting back from a convention. I
didn't think when I got on the train here at the junction that I should
see you. What were you writing to me about? Anything in particular?"
"Yes, about the receipt," replied Ruth.
"What receipt?"
Ruth fumbled in her bead bag and drew forth the paper. "This," she
said. "I didn't want to send it to Aunt Hester till I knew whether it
was worth anything. Martin says it is a receipt from," she lowered
her voice, "Simon Petty to Francis Brackenbury, only he will call it
Blackberry. You know Uncle Sidney told them I was named Mayfield and
they don't know I am really Ruth Brackenbury."
The doctor had taken the paper and was examining it carefully.
"The rascal!" Ruth heard him say under his breath. "The unmitigated
scoundrel!"
"Is it worth anything?" asked Ruth, anxiously.
"I should say it was. Where on earth did you get it, Miss Mouse?"
Then Ruth told him the whole story; he nodded approvingly from time to
time. At the close of her tale, he put the receipt carefully away in
his pocketbook. "I'll take care of it," he said.
"Will it do Aunt Hester any good? Will it do her enough good for me to
go back and live with her?"
"Do you want to go so much?"
"Oh, I do, I do. I would never have gone away only Billy said it would
be better for Aunt Hester and she wouldn't have to work so hard."
The doctor's arm went around the child and he drew her close to him.
"Bless the little old woman," he said. "Well, Miss Mouse, I think, if I
am not mistaken, it will mean that you can go back if you want to and
if your uncle will consent, for this paper doesn't only mean that five
thousand dollars have been paid but that all claims Simon Petty has
pretended to hold were settled long ago."
"And can Aunt Hester have her house again?"
"I think so."
"Oh, good! Good! Is Simon Petty very mean?" she whispered.
The doctor was silent but he shook his head as if over the evil of the
man. "He's a pretty sick mortal," the doctor told her, "and he has not
long to live, but he will live long enough to set this matter straight
or my name is not Tom Peaslee. Now you sit here; I want to go over to
speak to your friend Martin."
He left Ruth sitting by herself, a little song in her heart which
presently broke forth very softly from her lips.
"I'm going home, I'm going home. There's the church, and there's the
steeple. Soon I'll see all my good people. I'm going home, I'm going
home."
The train stopped. The doctor took Ruth by the hand. Martin followed
with the baggage and in another moment the train was winding its way
down the track leaving Ruth and her friends on the platform of the
station at Springdale.
"You leave the little girl in my charge," said the doctor to Martin. "I
will see her home. You will not have any too much time to hunt up your
friends and so we need not tax you further. Thank you, Martin, for your
kindness to our little girl."
He held out his hand and gave Martin's a hearty grip.
"Thank you so much, Martin," said Ruth. "The doctor knows the way to my
house and he can take me."
"I'll come around for you to-morrow in time," said Martin as he bade
the child good-bye.
But Ruth did not heed. For her there was no to-morrow, if it meant a
return journey.
She skipped along by the side of the doctor till they came in sight of
the little brown house. Then the child's desire out-ran the doctor's
pace.
"Oh, would you mind if I went on?" she asked. "I can't stand it, if I
don't."
The doctor loosed his clasp of her hand and she sped like an arrow
toward the house. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the latch of the
gate. She heard a sharp excited bark from Stray. It was a waste of time
to knock at the front door, and she flew around to the kitchen bursting
in half laughing, half crying.
"I've come back! I've come back!" she cried.
Stray precipitated himself upon her with joyful yelps of welcome. Billy
stopped in his task of setting the table to rush forward calling:
"Aunt Hester, Aunt Hester, it's Ruth, it's Ruth."
Then from the next room, a figure came swiftly, arms extended. Ruth
flung herself into them clasping Miss Hester's neck as if she would
never let go.
"Oh, Aunt Hester, Aunt Hester," she sobbed, "nobody has kissed me since
you did."
"My little girl, my little girl," murmured Miss Hester, kissing and
kissing her. "I have missed you so much."
The sobs which Ruth had choked back broke forth then into a real fit
of weeping. The love for which the little heart had been starving was
here, and the child wept on Aunt Hester's shoulder gasping out:
"I can't help it, I can't help it, I am so glad."
At this moment, there was a thundering knock at the front door, and
Billy ran to open to the doctor who cried out in his big voice:
"Where's that little runaway? Great Cesar, but I never saw a mouse
scamper to its hole faster than she. Hello, Billy boy, where are the
others?"
Aunt Hester with wet eyes and a tremulous smile around her mouth, came
forward.
"Come in, Tom," she said. "How did you happen to bring back my little
girl?"
"Let her tell you. I just stopped to say 'howdy,' then I'll be off.
Come here, Ruth, I want to speak to you. Excuse secrets, Hetty."
He drew Ruth to one side. "Don't say anything about the paper till you
see me again. I'll be back later in the evening."
Ruth nodded understandingly, and the doctor took his departure.
Billy busied himself in laying another place and bustled about like one
accustomed to such service as setting tables and preparing supper. At
intervals, he gave out pieces of news.
"Old Petty is awful sick; they say he can't live. Squire Field has got
a new horse, a beauty, bay with one white stocking. Phil Reed's little
dog is dead. Phil wanted to buy Stray but me and Aunt Hester couldn't
part with him. There's a new teacher at our school; he's A No. 1, I
tell you," and so on.
Meanwhile, Miss Hester and Ruth sat with arms around each other, Ruth
answering the many questions and finding it hard to keep back the fact
of the receipt.
"I say, you look like a howling swell in that hat," said the observant
Billy. "Ain't you going to take it off and stay awhile?"
"Maybe I'll stay forever," returned Ruth with a happy laugh.
The simple little supper of porridge and milk was on the table when
again a knock was heard at the door. Billy rushed to open and returned
with a basket in his hand.
"Did you order these, Aunt Hester?" he asked.
"I ordered nothing," said Miss Hester in surprise. "It must be a
mistake."
"There's a paper marked Miss Hester Brackenbury," said Billy. "I guess
it is all right. The man's gone, anyhow. Let's open the basket."
"But Billy—"
"It's bought and paid for, the man said so, and he said it was for you."
Billy paused in the act of drawing forth packages.
Miss Hester flushed but did not forbid the unpacking of the basket.
It held many dainties: a roasted chicken, a glass of jelly, fruit,
crackers, cheese and a delicious cake.
"Let me see that paper," said Miss Hester.
Billy handed it to her. There was the name plain enough, and on the
other side of the paper was written:
"In honor of Ruth's return."
"It's Tom Peaslee's doings," exclaimed Miss Hester. "There is no doing
anything with him once he takes a notion."
So a festal array there was on the supper table that night, and Ruth
enjoyed her meal more than any she had consumed in the house of her
uncle.
The dishes were scarcely cleared away before Dr. Peaslee returned,
bringing Squire Field with him. The squire drew Ruth to his knee.
"Little Ruth Brackenbury, tell us about this," he said, laying the
receipt on the table.
And Ruth told him her story.
The squire turned to Miss Hester. "So, Hester," he said, "your father
did pay off his debt to Simon Petty, fifteen thousand dollars in all.
Tom Peaslee couldn't let me rest, but routed me from my supper table
and said Simon might die before he acknowledged this, so he dragged me
up there where we set matters right in a jiffy and this is yours. The
old house goes back into your hands and we may thank this little lady
for her sense in keeping that paper."
"But I was going to throw it away," declared Ruth in all honesty. "If I
hadn't put it in the old pocket, it would be gone."
"Ah, yes, but you didn't throw it away; that's just the point," said
the squire smiling.
He handed the paper to Miss Hester with others bearing the signature of
Simon Petty.
Miss Hester took them with trembling hands. It seemed too good to be
true. "Now," she said, "I can press the government claim. It only
needed a little money to do that. Will you undertake it, squire?"
"Why didn't you say before this that you did not press it because you
had no lawyer's fee?" asked the Squire sharply. "Didn't you know I
would have taken the case on the chance of its coming out all right?"
"I didn't want my business done in that way," said Miss Hester proudly.
"Well, it will be put through now," returned the squire. "Get me the
papers when you can and I'll do my best to strike while the iron is
hot. You'll be living in your own home yet, Hester."
"And won't I, too?" asked Ruth. "Don't you know, Aunt Hester, I said I
was only going to make a visit. Must I go back?"
"Not unless you want to," said Aunt Hester.
Then the squire and the doctor went away and the three left behind
talked of the coming true of their old dream. The big house with the
pillars would be Miss Hester's again. She would have enough to support
herself and the children, and there would be no more buttonholes to
make.
True to his promise, Martin came the next day but Miss Hester would not
let Ruth go.
"I will write to Mr. Mayfield," she said.
She was not long in doing this, and as Mrs. Mayfield was by no means
anxious that Ruth should make her home with her uncle, she persuaded
him that it was best to leave Ruth with her adopted aunt. Mr. Mayfield
came to Springdale to talk the matter over. He found Ruth so happy and
so eager to remain where she was that he made no effort to take her
away. He offered a certain sum to be paid yearly for her support, but
Miss Hester refused proudly.
"She is my adopted daughter," she said. "She bears my name and I am
able to do for her as I would for my own."
Therefore Mr. Mayfield went away determining that he would send Ruth a
present once in a while and that he would not lose sight of her.
Lucia rushed over to welcome Ruth back and the girls at school listened
eagerly to her tales of her French governess and of her life in the
city.
"I don't see how you could give up all that," said some of them.
Although Miss Hester tried to keep the affair of the receipt a secret,
it was generally known that Simon Petty had behaved very badly and had
tried to cheat Miss Hester out of all her patrimony. Nora, knowing
this, tried to keep out of Ruth's way, but, after her grandfather's
death, the family left town.
It was one bright beautiful spring morning that the little brown house
was deserted and Miss Hester set up her belongings again in the house
across the street. Birds were singing in the tall trees on the lawn.
Vines were in leaf and flowers blossomed in the borders.
"Isn't it a dear home?" said Ruth as she stood with Miss Hester on the
porch looking around them. "It's yours forever now, isn't it, Aunt
Hester?"
"Yes, dearie, and it will be yours, too, as long as you live."
"I think Hetty would like to go with me to see what Billy is doing,"
said Ruth going into the house and bringing out her doll. "Shouldn't
you think she would feel very much at home, Aunt Hester, when she lived
here so long ago? She told me last night that it did seem good to get
back again. I wonder if she misses my dear Henrietta. Do you miss your
Henrietta, your little sister, Aunt Hester?"
"I should miss her much more if I didn't have my little Ruth," returned
Miss Hester. "You take her place, dear child, better than any one else
could do."
Ruth smiled up at her. Then she walked down the broad path and around
the house to where she heard Billy whistling cheerily.
"It's great, ain't it?" said Billy as she came up. "Aunt Hester says I
can keep chickens and I'm makin' a coop for a hen I'm goin' to get from
Fred Felton. I'm goin' to do some work for him to pay for it. He's no
good doin' anything with tools and I told him I'd help him out and take
my pay in stock. I'm goin' to try to get some eggs that way, too, and
I'll set my hen and have some chickens, then I'll get other chickens.
This is a fine place to keep them, there's so much room they can have
a chicken yard and they won't get out to scratch up the flowers. Maybe
if I am lucky with my chickens, I can save enough money to do somethin'
worthwhile after a time."
Ruth sat down to watch the quick direct strokes of his hammer as he
drove the nails into his coop.
"It will be too lovely to have chickens and flowers both," she said.
"Shall you keep chickens or will you have a store when you grow up,
Billy?"
"I can do both, maybe. I want to keep store more than ever."
"I don't think I want to make buttonholes," returned Ruth, laughingly.
"Oh, Billy, did you see this tree? It has names all cut on it. Here's
Thomas Peaslee and Hester Brackenbury and under it is Henrietta
Brackenbury. Ruth Henrietta Brackenbury; Billy, I'd like to see that
there, too."
"I'll cut it for you," said Billy viewing his copy with a satisfied air.
"And won't you cut Billy Beatty?"
Billy shook his head. "No, sir, I don't want my name in any such place.
Where I want it is on a sign over a store door. William Beatty and
Company in gold letters. I'll cut that name now. Where do you want it?"
"Right there under Henrietta's."
Billy began his work in a businesslike way, Ruth watching him
admiringly. When he had finished and had walked away with his tools,
she glanced around to see that no one was looking, and then she touched
her lips softly to each name.
"That's for you, Dr. Peaslee, because you are so good. That's for you,
Aunt Hester, because I love you so. That's for you, little Henrietta,
because if you hadn't died, maybe I wouldn't be here."
She touched with her lips each letter of the name which Billy had just
rudely carved upon the rough bark.
"That's for you, name," she continued, "because you are such a dear
name."
She folded her hands after this ceremony and stood looking up at the
soft blue sky across which fleecy clouds were drifting.
"You don't care, do you, mamma?" she whispered. "You would love Aunt
Hester, too, because she loves me."