"There's nothing to tell,dear.Are you going to conduct an excavation into my 'past?'""Indeed,I'm not!The present is enough for me,and I'll attend to your future myself.""There's not much to be ashamed of,Ruth,"he said,soberly.
"I've always had the woman I should marry in my mind--'the not impossible she,'and my ideal has kept me out of many a pitfall Iwanted to go to her with clean hands and a clean heart,and Ihave.I'm not a saint,but I'm as clean as I could be,and live in the world at all."Ruth put her hand on his."Tell me about your mother."A shadow crossed his face and he waited a moment before speaking.
"My mother died when I was born,"he said with an effort."Ican't tell you about her,Ruth,she--she--wasn't a very good woman.""Forgive me,dear,"she answered with quick sympathy,"I don't want to know!""I didn't know about it until a few years ago,"he continued,"when some kindly disposed relatives of father's gave me full particulars.They're dead now,and I'm glad of it.
She--she--drank."
"Don't,Carl!"she cried,"I don't want to know!""You're a sweet girl,Ruth,"he said,tenderly,touching her hand to his lips."Father died when I was ten or twelve years old and I can't remember him very well,though I have one picture,taken a little while before he was married.He was a moody,silent man,who hardly ever spoke to any one.I know now that he was broken-hearted.I can't remember even the tones of his voice,but only one or two little peculiarities.He couldn't bear the smell of lavender and the sight of any shade of purple actually made him suffer.It was very strange.
"I've picked up what education I have,"he went on."I have nothing to give you,Ruth,but these--"he held out his hands--"and my heart.""That's all I want,dearest--don't tell me any more!"A bell rang cheerily,and,when they went in,Aunt Jane welcomed him with apparent cordiality,though a close observer might have detected a tinge of suspicion.She liked the ring on Ruth's finger,which she noticed for the first time."It's real pretty,ain't it,James?"she asked.
"Yes'm,'t is so."
"It's just come to my mind now that you never give me no ring except this here one we was married with.I guess we'd better take some of that two hundred dollars you've got sewed up in that unchristian belt you insist on wearin'and get me a ring like Ruth's,and use the rest for furniture,don't you think so?""Yes'm,"he replied."Ring and furniture--or anythin'you'd like.""James is real indulgent,"she said to Winfield,with a certain modest pride which was at once ludicrous and pathetic.
"He should be,Mrs.Ball,"returned the young man,gallantly.
She looked at him closely,as if to discover whether he was in earnest,but he did not flinch."Young feller,"she said,"you ain't layin'out to take no excursions on the water,be you?""Not that I know of,"he answered,"why?"
"Sea-farin'is dangerous,"she returned.
"Mis'Ball was terrible sea sick comin'here,"remarked her husband."She didn't seem to have no sea legs,as you may say.""Ain't you tired of dwellin'on that?"asked Aunt Jane,sharply.
"'T ain't no disgrace to be sea sick,and I wan't the only one."Winfield came to the rescue with a question and the troubled waters were soon calm again.After supper,Ruth said:"Aunty,may I take Mr.Winfield up to the attic and show him my grandmother's things that you've just given me?""Run along,child.Me and James will wash the dishes.""Poor James,"said Winfield,in a low tone,as they ascended the stairs."Do I have to wash dishes,Ruth?""It wouldn't surprise me.You said you wanted to work for me,and I despise dishes.""Then we'll get an orphan to do 'em.I'm not fitted for it,and Idon't think you are."
"Say,isn't this great!"he exclaimed,as they entered the attic.
"Trunks,cobwebs,and old furniture!Why have I never been here before?""It wasn't proper,"replied Ruth,primly,with a sidelong glance at him."No,go away!"They dragged the furniture out into the middle of the room and looked it over critically.There was all that she had described,and unsuspected treasure lay in concealment behind it."There's almost enough to furnish a flat!"she cried,in delight.
He was opening the drawers of a cabinet,which stood far back under the eaves."What's this,Ruth?""Oh,it's old blue china--willow pattern!How rich we are!""Is old blue willow-pattern china considered beautiful?""Of course it is,you goose!We'll have to have our dining-room done in old blue,now,with a shelf on the wall for these plates.""Why can't we have a red dining-room?"
"Because it would be a fright.You can have a red den,if you like.""All right,"he answered,"but it seems to me it would be simpler and save a good deal of expense,if we just pitched the plates into the sad sea.I don't think much of 'em.""That's because you're not educated,dearest,"returned Ruth,sweetly."When you're married,you'll know a great deal more about china--you see if you don't."They lingered until it was so dark that they could scarcely see each other's faces."We'll come up again to-morrow,"she said.
"Wait a minute."
She groped over to the east window,where there was still a faint glow,and lighted the lamp,which stood in its accustomed place,newly filled.
"You're not going to leave it burning,are you?"he asked.
"Yes,Aunt Jane has a light in this window every night.""Why,what for?"
"I don't know,dearest.I think it's for a lighthouse,but Idon't care.Come,let's go downstairs."
