"I MUST GO AND NURSE MR. BELLINGHAM"
The next morning Miss Benson would insist upon making Ruth lie down on the sofa. Ruth longed to do many things; to be much more active; but she submitted, when she found that it would gratify Miss Faith if she remained as quiet as if she were really an invalid. Leonard sat by her holding her hand. Every now and then he looked up from his book, as if to make sure that she indeed was restored to him. He had brought her down the flowers which she had given him the day of her departure, and which he had kept in water as long as they had any greenness or fragrance, and then had carefully dried and put by. She too, smiling, had produced the one rose which she had carried away to the hospital. Never had the bond between her and her boy been drawn so firm and strong. Many visitors came this day to the quiet Chapel-house. First of all Mrs.
Farquhar appeared. She looked very different from the Jemima Bradshaw of three years ago. Happiness had called out beauty; the colouring of her face was lovely, and vivid as that of an autumn day; her berry red lips scarce closed over the short white teeth for her smiles; and her large dark eyes glowed and sparkled with daily happiness. They were softened by a mist of tears as she looked upon Ruth. "Lie still! Don't move! You must be content to-day to be waited upon, and nursed! I have just seen Miss Benson in the lobby, and had charge upon charge not to fatigue you. Oh, Ruth! how we all love you, now we have you back again! Do you know, I taught Rosa to say her prayers as soon as ever you were gone to that horrid place, just on purpose that her little innocent lips might pray for you--I wish you could hear her say it--'Please, dear God, keep Ruth safe.' Oh, Leonard! are not you proud of your mother?" Leonard said "Yes," rather shortly, as if he were annoyed that any one else should know, or even have a right to imagine, how proud he was. Jemima went on-- "Now, Ruth! I have got a plan for you. Walter and I have partly made it;and partly it's papa's doing. Yes, dear! papa has been quite anxious to show his respect for you. We all want you to go to the dear Eagle's Crag for this next month, and get strong, and have some change in that fine air at Abermouth. I am going to take little Rosa there. Papa has lent it to us. And the weather is often very beautiful in November." "Thank you very much. It is very tempting; for I have been almost longing for some such change. I cannot tell all at once whether I can go; but Iwill see about it, if you will let me leave it open a little." "Oh! as long as you like, so that you will but go at last. And, Master Leonard! you are to come too. Now, I know I have you on my side." Ruth thought of the place. Her only reluctance arose from the remembrance of that one interview on the sands. That walk she could never go again;but how much remained! How much that would be a charming balm and refreshment to her! "What happy evenings we shall have together! Do you know, I think Mary and Elizabeth may perhaps come." A bright gleam of sunshine came into the room. "Look! how bright and propitious for our plans. Dear Ruth, it seems like an omen for the future!" Almost while she spoke, Miss Benson entered, bringing with her Mr. Grey, the rector of Eccleston. He was an elderly man, short, and stoutly built, with something very formal in his manner; but any one might feel sure of his steady benevolence who noticed the expression of his face, and especially of the kindly black eyes that gleamed beneath his grey and shaggy eyebrows.
Ruth had seen him at the hospital once or twice, and Mrs. Farquhar had met him pretty frequently in general society. "Go and tell your uncle," said Miss Benson to Leonard. "Stop, my boy! I have just met Mr. Benson in the street, and my errand now is to your mother. I should like you to remain and hear what it is;and I am sure that my business will give these ladies,"--bowing to Miss Benson and Jemima--"so much pleasure, that I need not apologise for entering upon it in their presence." He pulled out his double eye-glass, saying, with a grave smile-- "You ran away from us yesterday so quietly and cunningly, Mrs. Denbigh, that you were, perhaps, not aware that the Board was sitting at that very time, and trying to form a vote sufficiently expressive of our gratitude to you. As chairman, they requested me to present you with this letter, which I shall have the pleasure of reading." With all due emphasis he read aloud a formal letter from the Secretary to the Infirmary, conveying a vote of thanks to Ruth. The good rector did not spare her one word, from date to signature; and then, folding the letter up, he gave it to Leonard, saying-- "There, sir! when you are an old man, you may read that testimony to your mother's noble conduct with pride and pleasure. For, indeed," continued he, turning to Jemima, "no words can express the relief it was to us. Ispeak of the gentlemen composing the Board of the Infirmary. When Mrs.
