Uncle Peter has talked
of nothing else for days."
"But do you want me to stay, Miss Ruth?"
She lifted her head and looked him fearlessly in the eyes:
"Yes, I do--now that you will have it that way. We are going to
have a sleigh-ride to-morrow, and I know you would love the open
country, it is so beautiful, and so is--"
"Ruth! Ruth! you dear child," came a voice--"are you two never
coming in?--the coffee is stone cold."
"Yes, Aunt Felicia, right away. Run, Mr. Breen--" and she flew up
the brick path.
For the second time Miss Felicia's keen, kindly eyes scanned the
young girl's face, but only a laugh, the best and surest of masks,
greeted her.
"He thinks it all lovely," Ruth rippled out. "Don't you, Mr.
Breen?"
"Lovely? Why, it is the most wonderful place I ever saw; I could
hardly believe my senses. I am quite sure old Aunt Hannah is
cooking behind that door--" here he pointed to the kitchen--"and
that poor old Tom will come hobbling along in a minute with 'dat
mis'ry' in his back. How in the world you ever did it, and what--"
"And did you hear my frogs?" interrupted his hostess.
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