She was sorry now she had not
braved everything and gone with her.
"And did he send me any message, aunty?" This came quite as a
matter of form--merely to learn all the details.
"Oh, yes,--I forgot: he told me to tell you how glad he was to
hear your father was getting well," replied Miss Felicia searching
the mantel for a book she had placed there.
Ruth bit her lips and a certain dull feeling crept about her
heart. Jack, with his broken arm and bruised head rose before her.
Then another figure supplanted it.
"And what sort of a girl is that Miss Bolton?" There was no
curiosity--merely for information. "Uncle Peter was so full of her
brother and how badly he had been hurt he hardly mentioned her
name"
"I did not see her very well; she was just coming out of her
brother's room, and the hall was dark. Oh, here's my book--I knew
I had left it here."
"Pretty?" continued Ruth, in a slightly anxious tone.
"No,--I should say not," replied the old lady, moving to the door.
"Then you don't think there is anything I can do?" Ruth called
after her.
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