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J^utftie^s Vetiture: 



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FLOWERS, FRUIT, AND THORNS 



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GliElSTBUIlY. 



BY THX AUTHOR OF "A SUMMER IN THE FOREST," AND ''FLOV 



UNDSLEY AND HER FRIENDS." 



- > - '- -- " . - - 



4 •••^4« ■< •* *,• 



AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 

150 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK. 

C C. la'^'i) 



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THE NEW YORK 

PUBLIC LIBRARY 

854516A 

ASTOP, LENOX AND 

TILDEN FOUNDATIONS 

R 1936 L 



COPYRIGHT, 
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIBTf 
1876. 



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••■I'* ■• 



RUTHIE'S VENTURR 



CHAPTER I. 

"It's dreadful!" groaned Miss Sally Dusenbury, 

"It's terrible!" sighed Miss Penelope. 

"And worst of all, we can't help it," added Miss 
Sally. 

"Of course we can't," echoed Miss Penelope, 
and Miss Sally rolled up her eyes at her sister, and 
Miss Penelope made a deprecating wave of her 
hands toward Miss Sally, and then they both sat 
and looked at the figures on the carpet a few min- 
utes in uncomfortable silence. 

"It would have seemed to simplify things if 
Jotham had died at some other time," said Miss 
Sally again ; " not just now, while his wife is in such 
poor health, and the times are so hard." 

" Of if he had had a boy for his first child instead 



4 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

of Ruthie," added Miss Penelope. *• With a boy and 
two girls there might have been some hope of their 
getting along, and there would be some one to keep 
up the Dusenbury name ; but with three girls, and 
with a wife that is sick all the time, or thinks she 
is, what is ever to be done ?" and the sisters groaned 
in concert 

Poor little Ruthie, who "ought to have been a 
boy," was asking herself the very same question as 
she sat in the window of her own room, letting the 
afternoon breeze cool her bewildered brain and the 
quick wiry beating of the pulse at her slender wrists. 
Everything had come in such a whirl the last few 
days. She had thought that dreadful funeral was 
more than she could live through, but it was harder 
if possible to come back to the desolate house, and 
find the children clinging to her for everything, and 
no one to dream that she needed any comforting 
herself. And as if that were not enough, the very 
next day brought a visit from Judge Larcom, the 
lawyer of the village. 

Every one looked up to the Judge with respect 
almost amounting to awe, and every one at the same 
time felt that the " Four Comers," as the centre of 
the village was called, could hardly hold together 
without him. He was the only man among them 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 5 

who had been to college, not excepting the minister 
and the doctor, and had made himself name and fame 
in the city close by. So that, although they were very 
watchful of any signs of his feeling "above them," 
it was a great thing, every one felt, that he liked to 
come back to the old place for something like a 
vacation every summer, and it was even whispered 
another year would see him settled there altogether, 
only going in and out from the city as business 
required. 

Ruthie wondered a little as she saw him open 
the gate; he had often come in happy days gone 
by, and chatted with her father a whole evening on 
the doorstep under the shadow of the great elm, 
but what could bring him this morning ? However 
she felt as if nothing could seem very strange after 
all that had happened lately, and went quietly down 
to see. 

The Judge was a business man and began at 
once to unfold his errand. 

"Don't call your mother, Ruth," he said — how 
strange that sounded, no one ever thought of calling 
her Ruth — "you 're a sensible girl, and I think what 
I have to say had better be said to you, at least I *11 
tell you first and you can choose the best time for 
repeating it" 



6 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

Ruthie did not speak, but stood before the 
Judge, her brown eyes seeming to reach out toward 
him as if they could catch what was coming before 
it could even reach her ears. The Judge hesitated 
and changed his hat from one hand to the other; 
but business was business and must be done, spite 
of pitiful eyes. 

"I am very sorry," he began again, "but the 
fact is, those railroad bonds your father relied upon 
to make you all comfortable, have scattered off in 
the panic you have heard of, like so many peanut 
shells in the wind, and will make just about as good 
boats for you to sail in, too. It's bad business, 
and I do n't see what is going to be done." 

" Something must be done," said Ruthie, making 
a desperate effort to speak bravely, and then shutting 
her lips very tight, and grasping the back of her 
father's arm-chair with all the strength of her 
slender fingers. 

" Yes, but — '' said the Judge, then stopped and 
shook his shining bald head. " I do n't know, we 
must see what can be arranged." 

The next day there was another knock at the 
door, and there stood Judge Larcom again, gold- 
headed cane and all. He cocked his head a little 
to one side, and took a searching look out of his 



RUtHJETS VENTURE, y 

half-shut eyes at Ruthie, then wiped his shoes vig- 
orously, and walked in. 

"I thought I'd better leave yesterday's news 
with you a while before I brought any more," he 
said; ** but I see how it is, you 're a brave girl, and 
understand things too ; and now I suppose I must 
tell you that there's a kind of incumb — " he stopped, 
for the brown eyes were upon him again. "A 
mortgage in fact; a first mortgage on the house 
and place. It was a temporary thing and would 
have been soon arranged if your father had lived, 
but those bonds have done the mischief. Unfor- 
tunate, very, putting everything in one invest- 
ment" 

Poor Ruthie ! The Judge had praised her for 
** understanding things," but brain and heart seem- 
ed one whirl of confused pain now. 

"It's a pity," went on the Judge again, "for 
it 's a fine old place, and the Dusenburys have held 
it, and the respect of every one near them, for a 
good way back toward Adam. But now, things 
standing as they do, it 's a question where the bread 
and butter for four are coming from ; but when it 
comes to paying interest on a mortgage," and the 
shining head shook again, more positively than the 
day before, "I don't see what can be done," he 



S RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

said. " Ethan Hardback holds the mortgage, and 
he holds with a pretty close grip always." 

" Something must be done," said Rutbie again, 
and that is what she was thinking of as she sat by 
the window looking out into the branches of the 
old elm-tree, at the very moment her aunts, Miss 
Sally and Miss Penelope were wringing their hands 
in the stately parlor of the twin Dusenbury house. 

** And I must be the one to do it," she added at 
last, pressing her lips together in that resolute way 
of hers. " There is no one else, and I am ready 
for anything, if I only knew what. I do n't think 
doing is anything at all to be compared with not 
knowing what to do !" and she pushed back the 
hair from her temples, and rested her perplexed 
little head on a set of tapering fingers that did n't 
look much like working out bread and butter for a 
family. 

"There are fifty things I could do if I could 
only go away, but I can't leave the others. They 
must be taken care of, and Ethan Hardback shall 
not turn them out of this house !" and she clenched 
her little fist in a way the said Ethan might have 
thought terrible to see, but it didn't lessen the 
perplexity for all that 

Just at that moment came a rattle of wheels. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 9 

and a queer-looking vehicle stopped under the 
shade of the elm directly beneath Ruth's window. 
•Two old chaise wheels with the top minus, and in 
place of that lost glory a long box fitted — the front 
of which served as a seat, while the rear end, judg- 
ing from a half-shut lid, choking with brown paper 
parcels, played the part of market wagon — and load- 
ed down the comical old gray pony, from whose 
ears fluttered ribbons of red, white, and blue. A 
little man, as queer as all the rest, got down from 
the box, wearing gay plaid pants, a green velveteen 
coat, and a huge blue handkerchief, out of which 
peeped a face hardly larger than a saucer, and 
lighted by two twinkling black eyes. It was Hans 
Berger, who had been a faithful farm hand for her 
father as long ago as Ruthie's memory could reach. 

** I must go down," she said, " Hans always tires 
mother so ;" and running over the stairs she found 
the little man wiping each eye with a separate cor- 
ner of the blue handkerchief. 

"Ah, Fraulein Rute," he said, "just one quarter 
lifetime I find home your fader's house inside, till I 
marry my own frau; and his beeple are like my 
beeple, all the same ; and now he leaves them in 
drouble, and I cannot help !" 

" So you have heard that we are left in trouble, 



( 



fo RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

Hans ?" said Ruthie, fighting back the great sob 
that she had felt lying like iron in her breast all 
day, and trying to smile into the twinkling little 
eyes instead. 

Yes, Hans had heard, and so had all the village 
for that matter, for evil tidings have swift wings, 
and the Dusenbury troubles had been the gossip of 
the Four Comers all that day. If the sob had come 
instead of the smile, he might have got along with 
it ; but the smile was too much, and the corners of 
the blue handkerchief came up again. 

" Ah, Fraulein Rute,'* he said, " I cannot bear 
you to be boor. I know what it is so many years, 
and I hate it like a serpent that takes bread from 
all mouths I love. My Barbara and I were gay and 
happy when we first love in Chermany; but we 
come here because they will not let us marry there 
when we only love and have nothing. So we leave 
Chermany and come here, and then after that we 
were so boor my Barbara often say, ' O Lord, let 
my little baby die first, and then me ;' and at last, 
when I almost wished the Lord would hear, we find 
this house, and your fader made all right. Now his 
beeple are my beeple, all the same, and I see drouble 
come and cannot help." 

It was Hans' first visit of condolence, and ho 



RUTHIE*S VENTURE. ii 

could havfe mowed a four-acre lot with greater ease 
and with the equally great advantage of knowing 
when he had done ; but he started at last, and 
Ruthie stood in the doorway watching him clamber 
to his seat. Suddenly he looked up, and to her 
despair began again. 

" It is hard to settle how all things shall be pet- 
ter/' he said, with an extra twinkle in his little eyes. 
" Now if you were only one large poy, twenty-one 
years, hundert beeple would be glad." 

" Why, what do you mean, Hans ?*' asked Ruthie. 

" Mean V* and Hans pointed to the parcels push- 
mg their way through his box lid. " When mein 
Barbara must have one sj)Oonful bepper or salt, I 
must drive five miles to bring it home, and so must 
every man. We want some one to keep one leetle 
shop here, but no one finds a place. Your house 
has blenty room ; but a fraulein can only make the 
clothes and the bread, and sing sometimes a song.'* 

Ruthie stood breathless watching the little cart 
and the blue handkerchief disappear down the road. 
A store ! Why had n't she thought of that before ? 
The house stood just at the four corners where the 
two roads of the little township crossed, and she 
had heard every family on both of them complain 
of the distance to any market ; and here she had a 



12 RUTHIE^S VENTURE. 

great empty front room, and the shade of the old 
elm would be just the place for customers to tie 
their horses, and she could be at home all the time, 
and Ethan Hardback would not get the house ! 

The whirl in her brain began again ; but it was 
in a new direction this time, and decidedly more 
cheerful than before. There was no need to ask 
advice or consent in her mother's desponding sick- 
room : if she could only keep out care and trouble 
and arrange things in some way so that no worries 
or questions could make their way within its walls, 
Ruthie knew that was all her mother wished. But 
she would need help from some direction. It took 
money to set up a store, and she saw no way to 
obtain that unless some friend would lend it. Who 
should it be t Aunt Sally and Aunt Penelope ? Of 
course they would. She would venture very little 
to begin with, and something must be done. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 13 



CHAPTER II. 

RaxHiE caught her hat, almost forgetting its 
dreary change from bright daisies to black ribbon, 
and flew down the grassy street toward the other 
" Dusenbury house." The two were precisely alike, 
built by some Grandfather Dusenbury for some pair 
of twin sons, in the style of stately times long gone 
by. The front blinds were all closed, but that was 
only to save the carpets, as Ruthie knew very well ; 
and she knew just where to find her aunts by slip- 
ping in at a side door, and following the short, prop- 
erly regulated " creak, creak," of Miss Sally's rock- 
ing-chair, and the equally regular " click, click," of 
Miss Penelope's knitting-needles. 

No outsider could ever understand when or how 
things were done in the Misses Dusenbury's house ; 
they always seemed to have been done already, 
every room immaculate, Miss Sally's cap glistening 
in spite of excluded sunlight, and an atmosphere of 
calm and dignified serenity spreading over all, which 
the creak and the click only seemed to deepen, as 
the ticking of a clock makes midnight seem stiller 
than itself 



14 RUTHIETS VENTURE, 

But alas for the calm and the serenity to-day f 
Of all the shocks that Miss Sally and Miss Penel- 
ope had received in their mortal lives, not one was 
to be compared to that just then before them, when 
Ruthie should broach her errand. 

If the Dusenbury sisters once came to hold " a 
view " upon any subject, they usually held it pret- 
ty Strongly ; and it was one of their most settled 
views that too much demonstration was a folly of 
modern times ; but the sight of the black ribbon, 
and the thought of the lost daisies, on Ruthie's lit- 
tle hat put views out of sight for once, and Miss 
Sally rose from her rocking-chair, and Miss Penelope 
put down her knitting, to imprint two gentle, al- 
most tender kisses on her soft young cheek. 

Hope and excitement had sent such a glow to 
the cheeks, and a shining to the brown eyes even 
before the surprise of the kisses, as could not but 
be noticed. 

" I *m glad to see you Ve given over crying, my 
child It *s very wearing, and really of no use, and 
there are so many other things to be thought of," 
said Aunt Sally, looking closely into Ruthie's 
face. 

" Yes," said Ruthie, " a great many things ; and 
I thought I 'd like to come and talk with you and 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 15 

Aunt Penelope about some of them. Mamma does 
not seem able to think of anything." 

" She never did," Miss Penelope began to reply, 
but checked herself, only allowing a little ** Humph" 
to escape her, and Miss Sally took up the thread. 

" You are quite right," she said, a little nervous- 
ly, "we certainly are the proper ones to come to. 
But I 'm afraid the trouble is, talking will not settle 
matters. If your mother likes to come here, there 
is a room she can have, and we shall be glad to 
have her make herself as comfortable as she can ; 
for perhaps you know Grandfather Dusenbury left 
directions that there should always be a spare room 
in each house for any one of the family. But of 
course that will not provide for you and the chil- 
dren, and I don't see what's to be done." And 
Miss Sally looked mournfully at her sister. 

" Something must be done," said Ruthie, falling 
back on the same words she had taken refuge in 
with the Judge, 

Miss Sally coughed. 

" I do n't like to discourage you," she said, " but 
for my part I do n't see what is to be done, nor who 
is to do it." 

" I think perhaps / could," said Ruthie with a 
brave little smile, the color coming up with a wave 



i6 Rt/THIBPS VENTURE. 

into her cheek, while the great sob she had felt so 
heavy before Hans' visit was almost forgotten. 

Miss Sally started, and sat up straighter in her 
chair, and Miss Penelope put down her knitting- 
work and looked over her spectacles at Ruthie. 
Then Miss Sallie spoke again. 

"I suppose you do not forget that you are a 
good deal younger than your Aunt Penelope and 
myself," she said. " It would seem a little strange 
if you could make better plans than we." 

"I know it," said Ruthie, dampening a little, 
but with the brave smile still, "and of course I 
could n't, only that it seems I must. It seems to 
be left to me ; I do n't see any other way." 

Miss Sally looked uneasily at her sister^ and 
then back again into Ruthie's pleading face. 

"You must have some remarkable plan," she 
said. " Perhaps you will let us know what it is." 

"Oh, yes," said Ruthie, and then it all came 
out — Hans* visit and the wagon-load of parcels, 
and the suggestion of the store, and how strange it 
was that she had not thought of it before, and how 
she might do it and still stay at home and keep the 
family together, and the wolf of Ethan Hardback's 
mortgage from the doors. The bright wave came 
up into her face again as she talked, with such a 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. if 

glow, that she did not see till she had finished how 
white and still Miss Sally was growing, and how 
her eyes and Miss Penelope's seemed to be almost 
coming through their spectacles as they looked at 
her. 

"-/4 store! A store in the Dusenbury family I 
You keep a store ! Have you lost your reason to 
think of such a thing, or have I lost mine to think 
I hear you say it ?" Miss Sally broke forth at last, 
when Ruthie had finished, and she turned her eyes 
with a little sigh to Miss Penelope, and Miss Pe- 
nelope answered with an echoing one at her. 

"But something must be done," faltered poor 
Ruthie, astonished at the storm. 

" And you think you are the one to do it } No 
female Dusenbury ever earned her living yet, or 
ever will, I hop6, as long as I live to bear the name. 
You would disgrace the family, child !" 

" Yes, you certainly would disgrace the family," 
said Miss Penelope, with a pitiful little motion of 
ler white hand toward Miss Sally. 

" You do disgrace it now, only talking of such a 
thing," pursued Miss Sally, " even if the idea were 
not so preposterous in itself. A girl, and a girl of 
seventeen, and never accustomed to anything more 
useful than a schoolbook, or a bit of mending at the 

2 



iS RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

outside ; and the neighbors all used to buying in 
the city, and preferring it too." 

" But what can I do, Aunt Sally ? You are very 
kind about the room, but we cannot be separated, 
mamma and the children and I. We must keep 
together in some way." 

Miss Sally's very spectacle-glasses seemed to 
shine with the flash behind them as she answered, 

" Cannot } Must } That sounds very well, but 
there are people who must n't be choosers, and 
times when the proper thing is to accept what is 
offered." 

" To accept what the Lord appoints, certainly," 
said Miss Penelope a little softly. " I 'm sure there 
is no one who would be more glad to plan for you, 
if I only could ; but when I can't, and there seems 
no one else raised up to do it just at present, a right 
spirit would certainly wait for what the Lord sends, 
and receive it patiently." 

** But how do I know but the Lord sent me 
good old Hans, or that keeping a store is not the 
very way he does appoint, Aunt Penelope T said 
Ruthie, putting down the quick little beating of her 
heart as best she could. 

But Miss Sally did not give Miss Penelope time 
to answen 



RUTHIE^S VENTURE, 19 

" You are a wicked child," she exclaimed, " to 
talk in such a way ; as if religion and storekeep- 
ing, and the wild talk of that German farm-hand, 
could be all the same thing ! It is a sin, a down- 
right crying sin, and I hope you will repent before 
the Dusenbury name is disgraced for the first 
time.'* 

The resolute little lips drew themselves together 
now until they made thin coral lines, and Ruthie 
took up the hat she had thrown aside in her first 
excitement, with trembling fingers. 

" Very well, aunts," she said, " if Ethan Hard- 
hack should send us all to the poorhouse, I am 
afraid the family would be disgraced then, but whose 
the sin would be I *m not so sure. Good-by ;" and 
she shut the Dusenbury front-door behind her and 
walked down the path with quick little steps that 
sent the sound of the crunching gravel back to the 
still scandalized and agitated ears inside. 



-•-..'■^ , 



20 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 



CHAPTER III. 

RuTHiE sped home with the same swift step and 
the same glow in her cheek as when she made her 
way from the Dusenbury house under the elm, to 
the one under the willow; but hope and courage 
had quickened them then, and a sharp sense of 
disappointment lent them to her now. A different 
look had mysteriously come over everything ; the 
light fleeting clouds seemed to make dull shad- 
ows over life, and the great elm looked as if it stood 
there for no purpose at all, and the vacant front- 
room as if it never would open its blinds, at least 
not until Ethan Hardback should order them, as 
master, to do so. If she could but once get back 
to her own room, away from every one under the 
sun, for a few minutes ! 

But that was not to be, for when she had reach- 
ed it, and her still trembling fingers had thrown the 
door open, there sat a familiar little gray figure in 
the corner of the old-fashioned divan, established 
as quietly as if it had blossomed out from one of 
the great opening buds of the same color with 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, i\ 

which the crimson cover was thickly bedecked and 
bespread. 

The little figure sprang up as Ruthie entered, 
and stretched out both hands to take hers. 

" So remarkable !" she exclaimed. " I had just 
twenty-seven minutes to spare before I ought to go 
home, and I was afraid you would n*t get back ; but 
I 've only waited exactly nine, and here you are, as 
fresh as a rose. I felt as if I must look in once more 
and see how you are getting on, and I was in hopes 
there would be something in the way of sewing 
you 'd let me take home for you, just to please my- 
self ; and there *s always so much to be done where 
people are changing everything, you know, dear ;" 
and then, as she felt Ruthie*s hot little fingers 
tremble in her own, "why, what is the matter? 
What have you been doing to get yourself in such 
a heat ?" 

"Oh, it is nothing. Miss Piper," said Ruthie, 
trying not to let her voice show how quickly her 
breath was coming; "I have been down to Aunt 
Dusenbury's and walked rather fast coming back, 
that is all.'' 

"Hem," said the little dressmaker, taking a 
slow searching look into Ruthie's face, "I don't 
think that is quite all. You 've been down to Aunt 



22 RUTHIEPS VENTURE. 

Dusenbury's, and something has worried you there. 
Tell me all about it, dear ; and if we can help it we 
will, and if we can't, it will be easier when we Ve 
shared it, at least. I have seventeen minutes left 
yet, and we can talk a great deal in that time," and 
she drew Ruthie down among the cushions by her 
side. 

Ruthie hesitated. She did not believe in telling 
troubles very often, and was afraid she should break 
down and cry if she did ; but what could she do ? 
Her poor brave little heart had been giving out 
sympathy and receiving none ever since the last 
loving look faded away from her father's face, and 
she was starving for it at last. And there sat Miss 
Piper, whom every one did always go to with their 
troubles, holding her hands, and looking into her 
eyes, and saying, " Tell me, dear," and it was alto- 
gether too much. Ruthie used words sometimes 
as a painter does his colors, and with a few swift 
touches she laid the lights and shadows of that bil- 
lowy afternoon before her visitor. 

" You poor, poor child ! You brave little woman ! 
You dear sweet heart !" said Miss Piper, when she 
had finished, and she opened her arms and drew 
Ruth into them as if she had been a baby. If she 
only had n't done that ! Ruthie could have kept up 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 23 

under almost anything else, but just as she had 
been afraid she should, she felt the tears coming, 
and hid her face in the soft gray shawl she had 
seen in the corner of Miss Piper's pew every sum- 
mer Sunday for so many years. 

" There, there," said the little dresssmaker, fold- 
ing her closer, and rocking gently to and fro, " rest 
so a few minutes, rest your poor little heart and 
forget everything, just as the Lord would have you 
do if he were only here on earth as he used to be, 
and as I *m sure he 's longing to have you this mo- 
ment, only so many thousand times better than you 
can with me/' 

"O Miss Piper," cried Ruthie, "if my aunts had 
only put their arms around me as you do ! If they 
did n't want me to keep a store, if they did n't want 
me to move, or breathe, or have a crust, I would n't 
have cared ; if they 'd only loved me one minute, and 
said *Poor dear child' just once; that would have 
been some comfort." 

"There I there!" said Miss Piper softly, "never 
mind, dearie I The Lord says it, you may be sure 
of that r' 

" But I do n't see the Lord, and I do see them," 
said Ruthie ; " I see Aunt Sally's cap and spectacles 
before my eyes this minute, and it do n't seem as if 



24 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

I should ever forget them. Aunt Sally doesn't 
profess to call herself a Christian, but Aunt Penel- 
ope does, or did once, and I thought being a Chris- 
tian was being like Christ himself — that's what 
papa always used to say." 

" So it is, dear, so it is," said Miss Piper ; " but 
then you know some people are peculiar, particu- 
larly if they 've lived single, and stayed in the same 
house where they were born all their lives. Why, 
I often think I am growing very peculiar myself; 
do n*t you see that I am, dear T 

"Yes, I do; very peculiar indeed !" said Ruth ie 
laughing in spite of her tears ; " I do n't know any 
one like you at all. But do you think it would be 
such a terrible thing for me to keep a store T 

" Why no, dear, I think it would be beautiful ; 
that is, of course, if you can. We have to look at 
things carefully you know before we begin, and you 
would n't like to fail, especially on borrowed money. 
But I 'm sure you would n't. I 'm sure every one 
would be glad to see you try, and it would be such 
a convenience to me to buy all my piping cord, and 
hooks and eyes and needles right here. It's the 
very thing I *ve been wishing this long time ; it 
really would be remarkable." 

^But what else can I do, Miss Piper .^" said 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 2$ 

Ruthie. " Mamma is always sick, though I do n't 
think Aunt Penelope ever believes it, and she must 
have some one to take care of her. And Aunt 
Sally said something to the children one day about 
going away from me. and the poor little things held 
on to me and tried to make me promise, and would 
not go out of my sight all the rest of that day." 

" Well, dear," said Miss Piper, " just take a day 
or two to think of things, and I '11 ask questions of 
one and another, and find out if Hans is right. No 
one need be the wiser of course ; if they suspect 
anything they would only think I *m going to store- 
keeping myself, and that would be remarkable. 
Now do n't you feel lonely a minute when I 'm gone, 
for you wont be alone, and there '11 always be One, 
at least, ready to say " Poor child !" and bring things 
round for the very best. And now I've spent 
twenty-eight minutes instead of twenty-seven and 
I really must go, but I wish I need n't !" and the 
little dressmaker took both Ruthie's cheeks softly 
into her hands for a good-by. 

Ruthie sat down in the window once more and 
watched her scurrying along against the sunset sky 
to make up for the lost minute. Was it pos- 
sible only one afternoon had passed since she sat 
there before and saw Hans' gray pony and wagon 



26 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

drive up ? How long it seemed and how tired she 
felt ! Did every day seem like that to people who 
had no one to take care of them in the world ? 
Mrs. Piper said there was always Some One, and she 
supposed there was ; but then, as Ruthie had said, 
Bhe could not see Him. It almost seemed as if 
Miss Piper could though, all those things seemed 
such a reality to her, and such a sunshine always 
rested on everything she looked at. 

Not quite everything though: there was novv 
and then a rare exception, and Miss Piper was just 
at that moment passing the twin Dusenbury house, 
and looking at that out of the comers of her eyes, 
with a shadow on her heart and a pang in her little 
breast that she did n't think it best Ruthie should 
understand. 

" Oh dear," she was saying to herself, " I do wish 
Christians could always look at things just as the 
Lord does, and act accordingly ! I can find some 
comfort for almost everything ; but thai does seem 
one of the things where — " and the little dressma- 
ker hurried on with her sentence still unfinished, 
words seeming to fail in expressing even to herself 
what she wanted to say. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE tj 



CHAPTER IV. 

Before the sunset glow had quite faded from 
the sky, and while Miss Piper's pang of regret was 
still fresh in her heart. Judge Larcom stepped from 
his house, gold-headed cane in hand, and walked 
slowly down the grassy wayside in just the opposite 
direction from the one the little dressmaker had 
taken. He passed over 

" Old roads winding, as old roads will, 
Now by the meadow, now by the mill;** 

but not so very far after all, as the bee flies, and 
reached at last the open entrance of the place to 
which his steps had tended — a broad gravelled 
avenue, so smooth as hardly to show a wheel track, 
and dividing as it neared the house, to pass round a 
parterre gay with brilliant flowers, and musical with 
the graceful play of a fountain. He paused as he 
approached the house, and gave one keen look at 
the improvements. He had not seen it since its 
purchase by Mrs. Ashburton, a wealthy acquaint- 
ance from the city, whose legal adviser he had been 
since her husband's death. Something had attract- 
ed her fancy to Glenbury while passing a few days 



28 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

there with a friend of her husband's, Mr. Gray, and 
finding the place adjoining his for sale, she had 
made herself mistress of it at once, and "modern 
improvements" had been instituted with a rapidity 
that was like magic. Light verandas had been 
thrown around it on every side, a handsome portico 
and Venetian blinds had taken the place of the 
blank front door and the old-time shutters ; flowers 
had been tempted into bloom, and already vines 
were twining their first shoots along the supports 
of the veranda. A less practical man than the 
Judge would have rubbed his eyes to be sure he 
was not dreaming, but he only said to himself, 
"Very good, very good!" and stepped quickly upon 
the porch. A white-gloved servant opened the 
door before he had time to ring, and he was ushered 
into the presence of his hostess and the company 
he was invited to meet. 

Mrs. Ashburton advanced to greet him as he 
entered, graceful and picturesque as she always was, 
and with the indescribable charm of perfect lady- 
hood which always breathed like an atmosphere 
about her, while her clear, strong brow and thought- 
ful eyes assured even a man like Judge Larcom 
that he need not feel an evening wasted in convers- 
ing with her. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 29 

Mr. Gray and his sister stood near their hostess, 
while at a little distance, and near a window open- 
ing into the veranda, the two Misses Ashburton and 
a company of young people, whom Mrs. Ashburton 
was fond of drawing around her, were gayly chatting 
and planning a moonlight sail as part of the evening's 
entertainment. 

"Ah, Judge Larcom," she said, with a smile 
that had charmed a great many more brilliant men 
than the Judge, "I am glad so busy a man has 
found an hour that he can spare me here. I mean, 
if possible, to make this house a resting-place for 
busy people, myself included. Indeed," with that 
low musical laugh that her admirers learned to wait 
for, " I have made such a luxury of idleness since 
we came, that my daughter Grace threatens to name 
the place Vacation Hall." 

" Now, Mrs. Ashburton," said Mrs. Daucy, a bright 
bit of a woman with sparkling eyes and fluttering 
little motions, "that all sounds beautifully, and I 
do n't doubt you want your friends to luxuriate to 
the last degree; but you mustnt deceive Judge 
larcom about yourself. We who know you better 
understand that your vacations compare pretty well 
with other people's working days, as the world goes 
in general." 



30 RUTHIES VENTURE. 

"Yes," added Mr. Gray's polished tones, "we 
shall expect the sun to rise a little late as the next 
surprise, after an idle day of Mrs. Ashburton's." 

"What, my friends all against me!" returned 
Mrs. Ashburton. " I must have something to do of 
course, but all things are comparative you know ; 
and what did I do but rest those delightful weeks 
at your house last summer, Mr. Gray V 

" Nothing that I remember, but plan a fish-pond 
for me, and the improvements in this place for your- 
self, and get up a set of tableaux and statuary and 
what-not, that astonished the village people out of 
their senses and raised money to furnish their new 
chapel at the same time, and find out all the rheu- 
matic women, . . ." 

"Come, come, Mr. Gray," said Mrs. Ashburton, 
laughing, " that will do. That was all play, certainly ; 
and by the way, Judge, you must see that fish-pond. 
I believe I do take a little pride in that, though you 
might hardly notice it among all the other fancies 
over there. Was it not a charming thing for Mr. 
Gray to decide on the old homestead instead of 
going to the ends of the earth for a summer 
place.?" 

"True," said the Judge, "a very happy thing for 
the village, certainly; and they will understand 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 31 

that better every year, as they get over their sur- 
prise at some things they never saw before." 

Mr. Gray laughed. 

"Oh, I hope they will understand me as well 
yet, as they used to when I drove my father's cows 
to pasture, some portion of a century ago," he said. 
** This is only my second summer here since then, 
but it will soon be an old story again, for I mean 
to turn patriarch here and nowhere else." 

"A very happy thing for the village," repeated 
the Judge, " particularly if you bring such friends 
as Mrs. Ashburton in your train." 

" Oh, I am only the beginning," said Mrs. Ash- 
burton gayly. " We mean to bring troops to ad- 
mire this gem of a place and enjoy it with us. It 
is only astonishing to me it has been left to sleep in 
peace so long. I never saw finer views, or greater 
variety in my life. Why have n't you heard that 
the McDowells and Irvingtons have engaged board 
here already, and have friends who think of joining 
ihem besides ?" 

The white-gloved servant came noiselessly in 
with trays, and before Judge Larcom knew how it 
was done, his utter abomination of tea served in the 
parlor was all arranged so comfortably that he 
found himself really luxuriating with his sardines 



52 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

and coffee just near enough the open window to 
catch gleams of young faces, bright speeches, and 
merry laughter from the veranda, while Mrs. 
Daucy sparkled away at his side, and Mrs. Ashbur- 
ton appeared, now here, now there, lingering with 
each group just long enough to lay a graceful touch 
on what it was saying, and leave it gayer and more 
animated than before — very much, it seemed to 
Eleanor Gray, as she sat che queen and centre of the 
veranda circle, like a crimson-throated humming 
bird that had just gleamed in among the clusters 
of honeysuckle at her side, resting for an instant 
on spray after spray in turn, and flitting away from 
each to leave it swaying and breathing its perfume 
afresh like a thing of life. 

There was lingering light enough, after sardines 
and coffee and the tempting train that followed 
them had become fairly things of the past, to follow 
the winding paths Mrs. Ashburton had planned 
in her " idleness" of the summer before, and to ex- 
plore tiny groves, flower-beds, and promised arbors, 
until the moon rose over the edge of the old mill- 
pond just in sight, and the promised sail was called 
for by the veranda party. 

" Do n't flatter yourselves it will be a sail," said 
Mrs. Ashburton, '' only a turn in a very small row- 



RUTHIKS VENTURE. 33 

boat, that will take half your number at a time, pro* 
vided you will do your own pulling. However 
Grace and Fanny are ready for that, whenever the 
gentlemen think they have done enough." 

" I suppose rowing is one of the forms of res 
your daughters will indulge in this summer/' laughed 
little Mrs. Daucy, as she still fluttered her pearl-set 
fan to compose herself, after they had taken the 
place of the young people on the veranda, and the 
Judge and Mr. Gray had finished a long talk about 
taxes and securities of public property in general. 
" Very sparingly though, perhaps, it is so much like 
idleness after all." 

"Why, my dear Emma, if you had daughters, 
what woiild you bring them up to do ? Nothing 
for themselves or any one else T 

" But these poor things are hardly out of school. 
Last winter was their first season, was it not ?" 

" But what do you imagine they went to school 
fnr r 

"Ah but they need a little heyday after it," 
said Mrs. Daucy, with a flutter of her pretty hand 
tow^d Mrs. Ashburton. 

"I don't know any heyday life like finding 
something to do in the world," said Mrs. Ashburton, 
'' and I do n't see why young girls should lose their 

3 



34 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

share in that happiness more than older people. 
Do n't you agree with me, Judge Larcom T 

The Judge hesitated. He could talk politics 
with gentlemen, business with any one, and now 
and then at long intervals, nothing with ladies ; but 
Mrs. Ashburton was leading him out of any line he 
was accustomed to. However he succeeded in say- 
ing that usefulness was certainly the foundation of 
all true enjoyment. 

'' And if you saw as much of young girls as 
Mrs. Daucy and I do," went on Mrs. Ashburton, 
"you certainty would think it as pitiful to see how 
utterly ignorant of what living really is they seem 
to be, after their education is called finished. Why 
what do you think I heard a really charming young 
creature say the other day, when I tried to find out 
what she was looking forward to after every advan- 
tage money could give had been lavished upon her — 
school professors, travel in this country, and a year 
in Europe included ? 

« * Why, dear Mrs. Ashburton,' she said, ' I real- 
ly never thought much about it, but I suppose I 
shall shine in society awhile, and then be married 
of course ;' " and the rare musical laugh of their 
hostess broke upon their ears for a moment, but 
was quickly followed by a look of pain as she added, 



RUTHIRS VENTURE. 35 

"It is too bad, it really is too bad !" 

" Now I should just like to ask/' broke in Mrs. 
Daucy, " how a woman can follow out the designs of 
Providence better than when she looks forward to 
being married. Did he ever design anything more 
beautiful in all his creation than the heart and soul 
of a true devoted wife and mother, or anything 
more indispensable than her work, for that matter ? 
Why, what are you thinking of, dear Mrs. Ashbur- 
ton ?" 

" I am thinking of just this, Emma : that as not 
more than three quarters of the women in these 
days follow that design of Providence, I am afraid 
if they all settled down satisfied with doing noth- 
ing and being nothing while waiting to see which 
quarter they belonged to, it would become such a 
habit that whether they turned out wives and 
mothers or maiden aunts, they would still be pret- 
ty nearly nothing for the rest of their lives." 

" I think you must be an advocate of women's 
colleges," said Mr. Gray, passing a smooth hand 
over his smooth forehead. 

" There it is again," exclaimed Mrs. Daucy, 
springing up in a pretty impatience, and fluttering 
over to the next honeysuckle vine to gather a spray, 
and tuck it with half a dozen dainty little touches 



36 RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

into some of the lace folds about her throat. " 1 
am so tired of all this discourse about the higher 
education of women, and all that, as if we had n't wit 
enough to decide what we want for ourselves. If 
a woman has brains enough to make an astronomer, 
or a doctor, or a Sanscrit scholar, and feels a special 
desire to do so, why should n*t she t And if she 
hasn't, and doesn't, why should she.^ There are 
men enough in the world to make all the great 
scholars and thinkers we want, and it is their busi- 
ness ; women have enough else to do, or at least 
the fortunate three quarters that Mrs. Ashburton 
just mentioned certainly have." 

" But it is at least convenient for them to know 
how to read and write," said Mr. Gray. 

" Do n't be ridiculous, Henry," replied his sis- 
ter. "Of course, every woman wants cultivation 
enough to give her a well-developed mind, and to 
teach her how to use it ; but I believe a good old 
fashioned education, such as I had a dozen or fifteen 
years ago, is quite sufficient for that, and as for the 
rest, if a woman will just live out freely her own 
true self, I don't know what more can be asked. 
I sometimes think the Lord gave woman her heart 
and soul and instinct, and her whole wonderful na- 
ture, after he gave man his intellect, just as he 



RUTHJETS VENTURE. 37 

clothed the earth with warmth and beauty and 
grace, and whatever makes it habitable, after he 
laid the substratum of rocks." 

"Bravo," said Mr. Gray, laughing heartily. 
" Now we know what women are, or ought to be at 
least." 

" You do n't know any more than the truth, 
does he, dear Mrs. Ashburton ?" said Mrs. Daucy, 
fluttering one rounded shoulder a little toward her 
hostess, and the merest trifle away from her brother. 

" I should hardly like to say what I think about 
that," answered Mrs. Ashburton, laughing in her 
turn ; " but in any case, I do n*t think we had bet- 
ter say much more to you about the higher educa- 
tion of women. You should remember, however, I 
was n't talking of study, but of work." 

"O dear," said Mrs. Daucy, "that is almost 
as bad ! I should as soon think of asking a flower 
to work, as some women that I know. We do n't 
want it to ! we just want it to stand in the garden 
and breathe out its fragrance for every one around 
it, and let us look at it and love it, and admire the 
purity and grace and sweetness that make it just 
exactly what it is and nothing else." 

" Do be a little serious, Emma, if such a thing 
is possible," said Mrs. Ashburton. " If the world 



SS RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

had always stood just as Paradise found it, perhaps 
these wives and mothers that you talk of might 
have found that exhaling their loveliness was all 
their families needed ; but just as things are in this 
generation, I do n*t know where you will find truer 
work, or more of it than just such a woman has to 
meet before she does her duty. The more fragrance 
she breathes by the way, the better of course, but 
the work is there, all the same, in her own house ; 
and if she looks outside of that, it calls from every 
direction with so many thousand voices that the 
best she can do is to choose one or two of the near- 
est, and fly to those as well as she can. Do n*t you 
think so. Judge Larcom ?" 

If Judge Larcom had answered in the words 
that came uppermost, he would have said he had 
been a widower so many years, and the Mrs. Larcom 
of long ago had been such a thorn in his flesh while 
she did remain, that he did not feel he knew much 
about it ; but as that would n't quite do, he was try- 
ing hastily to arrange a reply that would be proper, 
when a light rustling of the honeysuckle near Mrs. 
Ashburton's side made them all start and look in 
that direction. 

It was Eleanor Gray, standing quietly there 
with her tall Cleopatra-like form, while the moon* 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 39 

light fell through the light screen of the vine ma- 
king almost an aureole of her misty golden hair, and 
shining clear into the violet eyes that gazed so ear- 
nestly at Mrs. Ashburton while she spoke. 

"Why, Eleanor, child! are you here? Has 
anything happened to the rest?" exclaimed Mrs. 
Ashburton. 

" Oh no, nothing at all," answered Eleanor, her 
half-troubled look changing to a bright smile as 
she stepped upon the veranda; "we have had an 
enchanting sail, and given up our seats to the rest 
of the party who gave up theirs to us in the first 
place. So you see we were straying this way, and 
I seemed to get a little in advance of the rest, and 
found myself so lost in what you were saying here 
that I really forgot whether I had come or not ;" 
and she laughed a clear rippling laugh that seemed 
an echo of the waves she had left behind. 

The sound of other voices now came following 
close ; the boating parties were soon returned, and 
refreshment being served, the evening, as all such 
pleasures do, came to a close at last. 

As Eleanor stood by her father, half veiled in 
the wrappings of her cloudy white shawl, and wait- 
ing for some delay of Mrs. Daucy's, a few "last 
words," such as are supposed to belong to ladies 



\ 



40 RUTHJETS VENTURE. 

alone came up between Mr. Gray and the Judge, 
and Eleanor beguiled Mrs. Ashburton to show her 
a choice plant she had been speaking of. They 
stepped to a flower-bed near by, and buds and 
blossoms were clear in the moonlight and fragrant 
in the dew, but Eleanor seemed to look absently 
at them, after all. 

"I don't know whether I heard all you weie 
saying on the veranda, dear Mrs. Ashburton," she 
said, " but I wish T could hear more. I feel in a 
sort of maze with so many new ideas. I did n*t 
happen to be the girl who made you that senseless 
speech, but I might have been, as far as any 
thoughts I ever had on the subject would inter- 
fere." 

''Thought is all that is wanting, then, I am 
sure !" replied Mrs. Ashburton, laying a jewelled 
hand on the young girl's shoulder, "for you cer- 
tainly have sense enough, and heart and soul enough, 
to see what a glorious thing life is, and what it is, 
or may be, to take your place and do your work 
among its opportunities and responsibilities, that 
open on every hand. Eleanor, my child, it is a no- 
ble and a God-like thing to work ; and do some- 
thing, and be something in our lives ! And even ii 
that thought could fail to rouse us, what right have 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 41 

we to be idlers, with the countless calls for help that 
come to us on every side ? The more you look at 
it, the more you will see great things opening be- 
fore you, and the more impossible you will find it 
I am sure to let life slip away into nothingness be- 
tween folded hands." 

Eleanor walked almost silently home, a flood of 
new thoughts crowding upon brain and heart at once, 
and pressing more closely still after she had said a 
gay good night, and found herself alone in her own 
room. 

She drew a luxurious chair to the table where 
her writing desk lay open with an unfinished let- 
ter she had left waiting her return, but her glance 
scarcely fell upon it now. 

What had Mrs. Ashburton meant } What were 
the " opportunnities and responsibilities" of life, 
and what could she do or be among them ? She 
had always delighted in giving pleasure, as far as she 
could, but what was it to be a worker or an idler 
in the field ? 

What was it to be a Christian ? Was it not to 
be ^follower of Christy as well as a believer in 
Him ? And was not his whole life full of work ? 
Had not every hour of it made his name dearer to us, 
or some soul richer throuorh him ? and when he was 



42 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

neither healing the sick nor giving food to the mul<i 
titude, was he not always helping us toward God, 
since whoever looked upon him beheld the Father 
also? 

" Oh, how glorious it must have been to him 
when he could say, * It is finished [* " thought Elea- 
nor, a warm glow springing to her cheek. " How 
glorious it was all the way through ! And I never 
thought that my life could be glorious too, if I were 
a worker also ! 

*' But oh what can I do ? I am all that papa 
has, and society means life to him, and I shall nev- 
er have an hour that I can call my own. And even 
if I had, I am so ignorant of what to da I do n't 
know anything but to feel my heart going out to 
every one I meet, and what good does that ever do 
any one ?" 



RUTHIBS VENTURE. 43 



CHAPTER V. 

The first sleepless night I It seems a strange 
thing to a young heart and brain, and drearily to 
be remembered for the heavy grief, the sharp pain, 
or the restless perplexity that brought it ; and with 
Ruthie Dusenbury all these seemed busy together 
as the old clock ticked hour after hour away, from 
dark to daylight, after that good-by from the little 
dressmaker. At first her thoughts were so busy, 
busy, busy, that she did not care how time passed ; 
the relentless question of what was to be done was 
before her and must be met. Boldly as she came 
up to it, every weapon but the one with which 
Hans had armed her seemed to fall powerless from 
her hand, and as often as she tried to get firm hold 
of that, the vision of her aunts rose before her, and 
the words, " You would disgrace the family," " It 
is a crying sin, and preposterous besides," seemed 
to ring in her ears. At last the clock began to strike 
the small hours, and the dreary recollection that 
her father was not in the next room, that she could 
never feel safe again in that thought, as she always 
had before, flashed suddenly over her as something 



44 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

new and hardly realized before. She hid her face 
more closely in the pillow, but it was of no use ; 
she could not sleep if she would, and she would not 
if she could, till her mind was made up as to what to 
do next ; for it never was Ruthie's fashion to rest in 
the midst of difficulties, and she had forgotten the 
little dressmaker's advice '' to take a day or two to 
think of things." 

The old clock whizzed again, and Ruthie sprang 
up, threw on her wrapper, slipped her feet into a 
tiny pair of slippers and sat down by the window 
once more. How fresh the breeze felt on her tired 
busy brain ! Perhaps she could think better here, and 
if she could once decide, perhaps she could go to 
sleep at last. Yes, she was sure the store would 
be the right thing ; honest work could not be a 
disgrace to any family ; and she would begin care- 
fully, and listen to advice from any who really 
knew ; and if the Lord really was helping her, as 
Miss Piper said, and as she hoped he was, she 
should not make a mistake. She must have a little 
capital to start with, though it could not seem much 
to any one who had plenty of money of his own. 
Who was there who cared enough for her father, or 
for her, to be willing to help ? 

The moon was just setting behind a bank of 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 45 

clouds in the west, the very same that had made such 
a glowing background to Miss Piper's figure as she 
tripped along the evening before ; and the morning 
star was just coming up, glistening and clear in 
the shadowy east. A trembling thread of silvery 
light stretched from it and fell gleaming upon the 
window of Judge Larcom's house. Ruthie started. 

'• I *11 go to him," she said. "I hale it, for bor- 
rowing always seems next to begging to me. But 
I know he can do it if he will, and I 'm sure he will ! 
Father always thought he was his best friend here. 
Now I 've decided," and before the sun had quite 
climbed through his bath of purple morning mist, 
Ruthie had fallen asleep with a little of the loneli- 
ness taken away by a strange sort of feeling, as if 
the little dressmaker's hands were still holding her 
cheeks between them. 

Judge Larcom had just pushed away his chair 
from the breakfast-table and was reading his paper 
among mingled odors of coffee and lilac blossoms, 
when the figure of a young girl appeared at the 
open garden window, looking very much, as it oc- 
curred to him, like a rose-bud that wanted to walk 
in. 

'*Why, what good fairy has sent me such a 
pleasure ?" he exclaimed, a^ b^ recognized Ruthie. 



46 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

" Come in, Miss Dusenbury, come in ;" and he 
tended his hand and drew her through the low 
window with a courtly bow, and a manner that was 
always the admiration and wonder of the village 
people, when he was in his best mood. 

Ruthie sat down by the breakfast table, half the 
silver on which would have furnished a small country 
store, and wondered how she could ever say what 
she wanted to. Her errand seemed to be in her 
throat, and very much as if it would never get any 
farther, but it must come. 

" I 'm glad to see you, glad to see you," said the 
Judge. " Your father was one of my oldest friends, 
and I'm sorry to lose him. My old friends are 
dropping off one by one, till I shall find myself 
alone before I know it ;*' and the Judge pulled out 
a great silk handkerchief and rubbed his face sus- 
piciously. 

" Oh, I 'm sure he '11 do it," thought poor little 
Ruthie, and she felt the same flutter of hope that 
had sped her feet down to Aunt Dusenbury's the 
day before, bringing the same tinging glow to her 
cheeks. There was not much time to gather up 
courage, for the Judge was a business man, and 
after the first few commonplaces seemed to be 
waiting to bear her errand. So, in as few wordi^ 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 47 

as possible Ruthie once more spread out her cas^-^ 
perplexity, emergency, great desire, and all. 

If a cold shower bath had been thrown over the 
Judge, and frozen as it fell, it would n't have pro- 
duced a very different effect. His face grew sud- 
denly hard, and he buttoned up his coat as if he 
really thought his pockets were in danger. 

" You do n't understand about these things," he 
said, in short quick tones, shaking his head vigor- 
ously. ** It is a terrible thing to go in debt, a terri- 
ble thing ; you know nothing about it, and the less 
you know the better, you may be sure of that, very 
sure/' and he rose to his feet and stretched down 
the tightly buttoned coat with an excited pull. 

"But I must do something!" answered poor 
Ruthie once more, " and what else can I do V 

" Humph !" said the Judge taking one or two 
turns across the room, and then stopping and look- 
ing at her closely from under his heavy eyebrows. 
** I think you said your aunts offered your mother a 
home ; and it must be that in an establishment like 
theirs you could make yourself sufficiently useful 
to compensate them for receiving you too." 

It was Ruthie's turn now to shake her head. 
"I don't think so," she said. "They don't need 
me, and then there are the children." 



48 RUTHIE*S VENTURE. 

" H'm," said the Judge again, " I think there must 
be some relative or friend of your father's who 
would be glad to take them in ; children's society 
is always pleasant, and if anything should be needed 
to make up their personal expenses, I should be 
very happy to attend to that." 

"But there is no one," faltered Ruthie; "at 
least," as the vision of an old uncle who had once 
playfully asked for them rose before her mind, "no 
one where I feel as if they would be willing to go." 

" We must take these things as they are ordered," 
said the Judge. " It is not pieasant always to yield 
to circumstances, but it is better than a resistance 
that you may regret all your life. You do not un- 
derstand such matters, as I said before ; and as I 
said before, the less you have of them the better. 
You may take my word for that," the hard look 
growing more impenetrable on his face. 

Poor Ruthie ! If she had looked, half an hour 
before, like a fresh rosebud wanting to come in, she 
felt now like a bruised and beaten one that wished 
nothing more than to go out Anywhere, only 
away from here ! What right had he to speak to 
her in such a tone ? What terrible thing had she 
done ? And yet she dared not answer him as she 
had her aimts ; and if tb^ truth were told, her heart 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 49 

felt more like fleeing away, this time, even if she 
had dared. 

" I am very sorry I have troubled you," she said 
with a trembling voice and rising hastily. 

"You have given me no trouble, Miss Duscn- 
bury, and I sincerely hope you will be able to ar- 
range these matters satisfactorily. Let me know 
if anything is needed for the children. Good morn- 
ing, miss," and he bowed Ruthie through the win- 
dow and returned to his paper, reading it upside 
down, however, as the servant noticed when she 
came in ten Diinutes later. 



RUTHIETS VENTURE. 



CHAPTER VL 

Such a queer little house as it was, Miss Piper*!! 
low, dumpy, and yellow, farther back from the 
street than any of its neighbors, with a tiny plank 
walk leading from the gate, and a monstrous red 
chimney rising from the roof. There had been 
brick enough in the chimney to build a small house 
of now-a-days, almost, but either time or a thunder- 
bolt had knocked ofiF about a quarter of the top and 
left it as ragged and jagged as ruins after a fire ; 
but it drew well enough, for all that, and always 
whifiFed away cheerfully so long as the cold weather 
lasted, and whenever fire was out of season there 
were sure to be peonies and marigolds nodding up 
and down the front yard. And if fire and peonies 
had ever failed together, there would still have 
been a spicy wide-awake spirit shining ofiF the little 
pasteboard sign that was slipped into one of the 
front down-stairs windows, sky-blue letters on a 
field of clover red, 

P. PIPER, 

DRESSMAKER AND FURWORKER, 

was what the sign said, and whether it meant Peter 
Piper or the Pied Piper, or anything else that P. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 51 

might stand for, the little dressmaker had seemed 
to have a special unwillingness to say» when she 
first came to town, uncounted years ago. So no one 
asked at that time, and now no one ever thought of 
asking, or caring to ask, so long as they could find 
her at home, under any name whatever. 

Miss Piper certainly had not shot very wide of 
the mark when, as she had told Ruthie, she some- 
times suspected herself of having her own peculiar- 
ities. She always knew just how many minutes it 
took her to do anything ; she always had the little 
excitement of seeing that something happened " re- 
markably ;" she was always " hoping" for something, 
and if ever at rare intervals discouragement suc- 
ceeded in worsting hope for a day or a night, the 
next morning was sure to find her "wake up with a 
text" that routed the enemy and left her champion 
of a clear field once more. But this wasn't all. 
Aside from the very few moments required to touch 
upon these points. Miss Piper was always at leisure, 
heart and mind, for anything and everything that 
any one wished to say to her, and her sympathy 
was ready as balm, or cordial, or common comfort, 
as the nature of the cure might require. And so it 
came to pass that old and young, rich and poor, 
bad a way of stopping under her end window, that 



52 RUTHTE'S VENTURE, 

came close on the sidewalk, or following the invita- 
tion of the sky-blue sign for a call inside, and then 
proceeding on their way wonderfully refreshed — » 
they didn't often stop to ask themselves how or 
Why This wasn't always conducive to the prog- 
ress of Miss Piper's work, it is true, but she never 
allowed any one to discover that, letting it count as 
it would in ordinary times, and making it up quiet- 
ly in busy ones after other people were in bed and 
asleep. 

This morning just as she had her cutting table 
fairly spread and was putting a fresh stock of pins 
into her pincushion, she glanced down the plank 
walk and out through the marigolds, and there 
stood Mr. Gray's plain but elegant carriage, while 
Eleanor already had her hand on the gate, and the 
coachman had settled into his statuesque attitude 
of waiting on the box. 

" My goodness !" exclaimed the little dressmaker, 
as the pins went dowQ and joyful surprise came 
up ; " and I did n't even know the Grays were com- 
ing this month ;" and she sped to the door with a 
feeling jhe hadn't time to frame into words, but 
which was something to the effect that the rather 
bare yard, the plank walk, the marigolds and all 
h?id become transformed and beautified as Gleaner 



RUTHIEPS VENTURE. 53 

Stepped in among them with her queenly form, her 
fair young face, and halo of golden hair. 

"Why, bless your dear heart!" said Miss Piper, 
holding out both hands on the threshold, "if this 
isn't really something remarkable! Why only 
last night I went to bed feeling as if it would be a 
pleasant change to have something happen just a 
shade out of the common course ; and I only look 
out of the window this morning, and there you 
stand, though I never dreamed you were within a 
hundred miles for a fortnight yet." 

Eleanor laughed and stooped one beautiful cheek 
for the little dressmaker to kiss as she drew the 
outstretched hands together and dropped a bundle 
of hot-house roses into them, the rare delicate per- 
fume almost taking Miss Piper's breath away. 

"There!" she said, "did you think the roses 
had come either.? And I hope I have not come 
too soon ; it is early this morning, I know, but I 
could n't wait. You know I never feel as if I had 
really come to Glenbury till I have made you a 
call," she added with a smile that went down into 
the depths of the little dressmaker's heart, and 
kindled a warm spot there that lasted all the rest 
of the day. 

*^ Why that 's so remarkable again !" said Miss 



S4 RUTniB:s VENTURE. 

Piper. " I never opened my eyes this morning till 
seventeen minutes past six; but I had my fire 
lighted at twenty-one minutes of seven, and break- 
fast all on at eleven minutes past, so unusually 
quick everything seemed to be, dear, and all put to 
rights and ready for you, if I had only known you 
were coming, really quite a long time ago." 

Eleanor laughed. 

"You are the same little Piper I left here last 
summer," she said. " I have n*t seen any one like 
you since I went away a year ago. Would you 
really think it was a year, a whole year lost out of 
my life since I saw you. Miss Piper .?" 

"Why no," said the little dressmaker, "why no, 
of course not ! How should a year be lost out of 
a young life like yours ?" 

" Oh, I feel as if it was," said Eleanor, " though 
I did not know it at the time ; but now that I do, I 
can't bear to think of losing another, and I do n't 
see how I am going to help it. So I thought it 
would be a comfort to come and talk to you a little 
bit, you always have such a way of seeing things, 
you dear little Piper," and she drew her so close 
that the quillings of her own delicate morning dress 
fell over the little dressmaker's rusty alpaca, and 
half buried its scanty folds. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 55 

Miss Piper looked anxiously into her face, '' I do 
hope you do n't mean that you 've lost your senses/' 
she said. 

"Oh, no," laughed Eleanor, "if I had, that 
would be full excuse for losing my time too. It 's 
a very simple trouble that I have, and yet I can't 
seem to see my way out of it ;" and she poured out 
the thoughts and perplexities that had so haunted 
and disturbed her the night before. 

"Now what can I do, dear Piper?" she said. 
"You don't know how differently life looks to me 
since last night, and it is a change that will always 
last, I know. It reminds me of many a time when 
I was in Europe, and used to stand before some 
wonderful picture such as only God could ever have 
taught men to paint ; yet I saw nothing very won- 
derful in it, only that it was beautiful ; my eyes 
revelled in it as they did in a thousand other things 
that lay around me everywhere, and that it seemed 
as pleasant for me to live among as for the butter- 
fly to flit over its flowers. Suddenly, and when I 
was not looking for anything more, a wonderful 
depth seemed to open in it, and a hidden meaning, 
and a great glory. I used to stand spellbound and 
feel that the first picture had vanished away, and a 
new one had come in its place that held me while I 



56 RUTHIKS VENTURE. 

itayed, and haunted me when I had gone, and 
changed my very self, as a new friendship does 
sometimes. 

*' Now that is just the way I have been looking 
at life, you dear little Piper. It has seemed such a 
pleasant, beautiful thing, and I was so happy that 
the Lord had given it to me, and his love seemed 
the happiest and most joyful gift of all ; but I never 
thought of it's being wonderful or great or deep. 
I never saw what glorious possibilities of doing and 
being it has. I never thought what an importance 
the lightest thing may bear, if you think of it as 
leading on to what lies beyond. I never saw that 
the Lord wants us to go through life looking at it 
as he did, seeing something we can do, or some 
one we can bless at every step. And now that the 
truth has risen upon me like a great flood, I do n't 
think I can ever be happy to feel myself a useless 
idle thing again." 

" Of course you can't," said Miss Piper quietly. 

" But, dear Miss Piper, just think ! If after the 
wonderful glory had shone out of one of those pic- 
tures into my blind stupid eyes, I had been told to 
copy it, what a gasp I should have given ! But 
what if I felt my whole heart rise up to the work 
and then found my hands tied, as they are now !" 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 57 

" Your hands tied ? How did that happen ? I 
had not noticed it/' said Miss Piper, looking de- 
murely down at the members in question, one of 
which ungloved for the sake of the roses, lay in 
Eleanor's lap, fair and delicate as the flowers them- 
selves, and lined like them with the faintest blush 
of shell pink, while they sparkled with jewels 
enough to have bought the little dressmaker's 
whole establishment out at once. 

" Now, you naughty Piper," said Eleahior, reach- 
ing them out to take possession of a knotty brown 
little one of Miss Piper's, " you are not to make fun 
of me. Do n't you see that although Aunt Emma 
has been doing the handsome and graceful thing at 
the head of papa's house the last few years, he has 
hardly known how to wait for the time when I 
could take the place ; and now that I am ready at 
last, he is so proud and delighted that he does n't 
know what to do with himself, and what does it all 
mean } Every moment of my time will have to go 
to receiving and entertaining such lunch parties 
and dinner parties and visitors staying at the house, 
calling and driving and all the rest — that is papa's 
taste you know — I shall not have a moment left, 
but just go on year after year that ridiculous use- 
less thing that Mrs. Ashburton so despises, a young 



$$ RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

lady * in society/ But what else can I do ? I can- 
not disappoint papa!" and tears sprang into the 
blue eyes that were gazing so appealingly into Miss 
Piper's. 

" What else can I do ?" the very same cry that 
perplexity and trouble had wrung from poor little 
Ruthie Dusenbury, and coming now from beautiful 
Eleanor Gray, who stood flattered and sought after on 
the very threshold of her reign in the gay world, 
and crowned at home with everything that love and 
wealth could vie with each other to bestow ! And 
Ruthie would have called it the wildest improbabili- 
ty, impossible even, that a cloud as large as a 
man's hand could ever cast a shadow over Elea- 
nor's path ! 

But it did not seem at all strange to Miss Pi- 
per ; she had found out long ago that a camel's 
hair shawl was as likely to cover woes as a rusty 
black alpaca like her own. 

" Why, you poor little thing !" she said, putting 
the other knotty brown hand over Eleanor's and 
smoothing it gently down ; " you poor little thing I 
It is too bad for you to have been fretting yourself 
BO over nothing at all." 

Eleanor opened her eyes wide. 

^ Why, Miss Piper I You surely do n't call ali 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 59 

that a woman is capable of, and the world and all 
the work that is to be done in it, nothing at all ?" 

" Of course not," said Miss Piper, shaking her 
little gray head. 

" Then what can you mean ?" 

"I wish," said Miss Piper, "you would just tell 
me what you mean by society. Perhaps I do n't 
understand, for I have never been in it, you know." 

"Society?" said Eleanor doubtfully. "Why I 
do n't know : men, and women, and people that are 
in the habit of visiting each other, I suppose." 

" H*m," said the little dressmaker. " And do n't 
you suppose that men and women and people in 
the habit of visiting each other are part of the 
world, and might possibly have room for some good 
done among them, as well as the part that do n't 
make a great many visits T 

The blue eyes opened still wider now as they 
and the earnest soul that looked out through them 
eagerly drank in a new idea. 

" Why, Miss Piper !" exclaimed Eleanor again 
at last, a new light beginning to break in her face 
that had been gazing so anxiously into the dress- 
maker's. 

"You think it is, on the whole.?" said Miss 
Piper with an amused smile ; " then I do n't see that 



6o RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

there would be any trouble about work, unless you 
are discontented with the place the Lord has given 
you to do it in. It may not be the kind of work 
Mrs. Ashburton likes best, or that you might like if 
your time was your own ; you may not take the head 
of a woman's hospital, or write books, or adopt two or 
three children, but you can certainly be a Christian ; 
and I have an idea there might be more such in 
what you call society without any trouble about 
room." 

" But I thought," said Eleanor, her face cloud- 
ing a little again, " I thought a Christian was one 
who tried to do something for the Lord ; a worker 
in his vineyard, you know, dear little Piper/* 

Miss Piper shook her head. 

** / thought a Christian was one that loved the 
Lord, and loved every one around her," she said. " I 
never saw much good come of * trying' to do His 
work ; but if a heart gets full to the brim as He 
wants it to, it will do it, just as a fountain flows over 
through summer and winter, frost and heat, be- 
cause it can't do any other way." 

It seemed as if Eleanor was trying really to 
devour the little dressmaker's words. She stooped 
forward till the golden mist on her forehead almost 
touched the smoother brown hair that Miss Piper 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 6l 

knew was getting " a little sprinkled ;" and the 
complexion that the neighbors all agreed in calling 
" remarkably well preserved," looked quite another 
thing in contrast with the fresh young beauty 
pressed so close upon it. 

•* Dear Miss Piper," she said. " I do love Him 
and I do want to serve Him. I believe in Him as 
my Saviour, but I do n't want to be selfish enough 
to have that the beginning and the end." 

" Of course you do n*t," said Miss Piper, with a 
decided little toss of the head ; and then getting 
softly up, she ran over to the cutting-table to rescue 
one of the roses that had fallen from its vase, and 
to restore it to the water before it drooped. 

" There !" she said, *' you might say these roses 
have trusted to their gardener and been kept safe 
in that way ; but after they have fed in his soil and 
drank the dews and felt the sunshine as he wanted 
them to, the trusting is a good way from being the 
end, I am sure ! Why, I should think one look at 
them would reward him for all he has done ; and as 
for me, just think of the blessing they will be to 
me all to-day and to-morrow besides — Communion 
Sunday too, when I always do delight in having 
flowers ! And it does seem as if they must take 
just a shade of comfort in knowing how beautiful 



62 RUTHIBS VENTURE. 

they are themselves, if they are only flowers !" and 
the little dressmaker turned to Eleanor with such 
a radiant smile as made her face look almost young 
again, even with the contrast still before it. 

Eleanor thought of Mrs. Daucy's simile of the 
flower, standing pure and perfect in the garden, 
and breathing out its fragrance upon every breeze 
that wafted by. She looked at Miss Piper, who 
with never a thought of " trying to do good," trot- 
ted about from day to day with a heart so " full to 
the brim," as she had called it, that hands and feet 
and sympathies were sure to be in play for some 
one ; and she looked at her roses, and saw how such 
a presence of loveliness could not but shed joy and 
benediction through the rather faded room and a 
light as radiant as Miss Piper's own smile crept 
into her heart and shone from her beautiful face 
with a glow such as no one had ever seen there 
before. 

The statuesque coachman had not stirred hand 
or foot in his seat, the peonies and the tiny plank- 
walk were unchanged, but the whole world, the 
whole of life itself looked differently to Eleanor 
Gray as she kissed the little dressmaker good-by 
and walked slowly but joyously down the yard. 



RUTHIE^S VENTURE. ^ 



CHAPTER VII. 

Communion Sunday never dawned more fair 
and still upon the broad fields and winding roada 
of Glenbury than the next day. The distant moun- 
tain-peaks that vanished and reappeared against 
the sky at the will of the circling mist, reared their 
great heads, first purple, then golden, then cloud- 
less and clear before the morning sun ; the nearer 
hills were veiled in blue or green as they drew 
closer or stood farther from the town, and not a 
sigh or a whisper came down from one of them on 
the breath of any passing breeze. The only mur- 
mur of sound came from the gliding stream, half 
brook, half river, that fed the millpond where Mrs. 
Ashburton's boat lay moored, and even in that 
break upon the stillness there seemed more hush 
and soothing than disturbance, as it plashed and 
rippled against its mossy shores. 

Miss Piper had risen at just sixteen minutes past 
six, unusually late for her, for as she often said 
she " never found Sunday half long enough," though 
her neighbors could not imagine what she could 
possibly find to do with even a short one, all alone 



64 RUTHIBPS VENTURE, 

as she was in that solitary house. But it might 
have occurred to them that, for one thing, it was 
the only day the little dressmaker was ever really 
left to herself, or had anything like positive leisure 
to carry her own affairs to the only Friend she ever 
troubled with them, or to strengthen her own heart 
with extra draughts of the love and sympathy she 
was always so freely bestowing upon others. 

O sympathy, blessed, beautiful and rare ! Touch- 
stone to the hardest heart, rest to the weariest, balm 
to the sharpest pain, and courage to those fainting 
by the way ; new gladness to the joyful, strength 
to the tempted, and day-star of hope to those over- 
come with wrong ! What should we know of thee 
beyond thy name, had not thy mysterious cords 
once drawn thy Prince and ours to walk among us, 
tempted in all things like as we are, and leaving 
thy heavenly touch on every soul that heard of Je- 
sus of Nazareth passing by ! 

When the clear mellow tones of the church-bell 
sent their first call ringing out upon the stillness of 
the day, Miss Piper had already been sitting peace- 
fully by her shining mahogany table for fully half 
d long morning of her own, with the serene sense 
of best neck-ribbon and freshly-turned dress adding 
mysteriously to her deeper comforts, as those things 



RUTHmS VENTURE. 65 

will, and taking rapturous little sniffs now and then 
at her still fragrant roses, as she rocked and read, 
read and rocked, calm in the recollection of cold 
corned beef, boiled and pressed the day before, and 
shears and work-basket put safely out of sight. 

Mrs. Ashburton's guests had just risen from an 
bour in the dainty breakfast-room, and were hover- 
ing about the verandah, where mere existence seem- 
cd a luxury for that sunny day, when the call struck 
their ears and startled them to the recollection that 
their hostess was going to church, and it would be 
the graceful thing for them to follow ; and there was 
a sudden flitting off to rooms for preparation. 

" Suppose we walk to church to-day, papa," said 
Eleanor Gray to her father, as they stood watching 
a new fountain that had only begun to play the day 
before ; "every breath seems delicious this morning, 
and these broad velvet carpets all along the road- 
side are such a treat. Come, papa, suppose." 

" Suppose what ?" asked Mr. Gray, settling him- 
self on a garden bench, and looking languidly off at 
the glimpses of hill and lake that had first fascina- 
ted Mrs. Ashburton. " You do not imagine it is 
necessary to go to church every Sunday in a place 
like this, where the sermon is likely to be a bore V 

" Papa," exclaimed Eleanor, " I am sure we bad 

5 



66 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

a lovely sermon last Sunday, and you do n*t mean 
what you say at all. Of course I want to go ; and 
besides, I am afraid some of the people may feel 
just a little hurt if we do not appear." 

"Ah," said Mr. Gray, "with two such weighty 
reasons in the scale, there is no room for hesitation. 
Run and get ready then, so that we shall not scan- 
dalize every one by being late." 

" Oh, I am all ready, papa. I could not spend 
time to dress twice on a morning like this ; but I 
should like to walk." 

" Very well, we might let the carriage take some 
of Mrs. Ashburton's people then. Ask your aunt, 
for she will never think of walking, you may be 
sure." 

It was soon settled, and the carriage, with Mrs. 
Daucy, set ofiE for the Ashburton place a little in 
advance of time, and Eleanor nodded a joyous smile 
as it passed her, her hand slipped into her father's 
arm, just before reaching the first turn in the road. 

"Was there ever such a morning, papa!" she 
exclaimed, as they walked on ; " and I do n't believe 
there is another such place as Glenbury in the 
world. Why didn't we ever come here before? 
My eyes are feasting every moment, and I never 
felt anything so fascinating as the grass under our 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 67 

feet and the little rustle it makes as we tread on 
it." 

" We want a few more people here, that is all," 
said Mr. Gray, "and we will have them by another 
season, with Mrs. Ashburton's help. I should nol 
be at all surprised if the Irvingtons build here be- 
fore another summer." 

As they drew near the church, still walking 
slowly, a slower step was heard behind them, ac- 
companied by the tap of Judge Larcom*s cane on 
the turfy walk. 

" So you are making the most of a Sunday in 
the country," he said, touching his hat to Eleanor 
as he joined thenj. "There are people who live 
here all their lives without finding out how much 
better a walk is than a ride." 

"And you make the most of yours by going to 
church, I suppose, Judge," said Mr. Gray. 

"Always, always," replied the Judge, with the 
same positive nod Eleanor had noticed the night 
before. " I want to be among the worshippers when 
Sunday comes ; and I like my two sermons a day 
too, as I was brought up to have them, to say noth- 
ing of influence in a small place like this, where 
every one counts." 

"And a few count a good deal, I should judge," 



68 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

said Mr. Gray. " By the way, how are your church 
matters getting on here just now T 

The Judge's face clouded. 

" Not well ; not well by any means," he said, 
striking a stone from his path with a quick knock 
of his cane. " They have a committee of two or 
three obstinate fellows, who want everything theit 
own way, and manage matters accordingly, and if 
there is any deficiency at the end of the year, they 
quietly look to me to make it up. Of course I do 
it, for I want to see the church prosper; but they're 
not right, they're not right!" and the Judge shook 
his head more positively than ever, and a disturbed 
flush rose over his face. 

"Well, well, send them to me the next time 
they find themselves in trouble," said Mr. Gray 
smiling, and they stepped past Mrs. Daucy's car- 
riage, standing side by side with Hans' gray pony, 
fluttering ribbons and all, and entered the tiny 
g^een-blinded church, where the stillness of the 
early morning seemed to have taken refuge and 
hidden away when once disturbed outside. Only 
the occasional flutter of a fan or rustle of leaves 
through the open window varied it, now that most 
of the brethren with new calfskins had creaked to 
their seats, and only now and then a noiseless foot^ 



RUTHIEPS VENTURE, 69 

fall made its way along the tidy carpets of the 
aisle. 

A gentle stir was raised by the entrance of the 
Judge and his companions, for the village people 
had not become quite used to the Grays yet, and 
then a slender figure with a black-ribboned hat 
came close behind them, with a child in sorrowful 
garments clinging at each side, and every one took 
a sidelong glance " to see the Dusenburys come in 
without their father, poor things ;" and then still- 
ness reigned again, and even seemed to linger, like 
the clinging folds of a soft mantle, as the simple 
services went on. 

Poor little Ruthie crept away as far under the 
sheltering gallery as she could, and looked across 
her father's vacant seat at the other end of the pew 
with misty eyes, and wondered if she could ever 
feel that an unseen Friend was as near her and as 
ready to help as he had always been. She wished 
she need not see Judge Larcom at all ; she wanted 
to put him out of her mind for to-day ; but there 
he was, directly in range between her and the pul- 
pit, and thoughts she had been fighting for the long 
twenty-four hours past would come back, and press 
in closer and closer between every good and com- 
forting thing the young minister (who was only 



70 RUTHIEPS VENTURE 

preaching his second Sunday there, but who knew 
of the troubles that had come to that pew mean* 
time) was trying to say. The words seemed only 
a mockery, the great world seemed empty and cold 
around her, and even the snowy table, with its em- 
blems of life and hope, stood there as a thing not 
yet allowed for her. What was the use of preach- 
ing to her about love and tenderness and grace, 
when, as she had said before, she could not see the 
Lord, who they told her was so full of them, and 
his followers, whom she could see, when she went 
to them for help, answered her only with a chill 
that had crept into her heart, and been freezing it 
colder and colder every hour for the last few days, 
until it seemed to her it never could warm and ven- 
ture out again to any one in the world. 

The sermon was ended at last, and the portion 
of the congregation who wished to do so, passing 
out, the few who remained were more closely drawn 
together, and Ruthie's eyes wandered absently from 
one familiar form to another, as a few moments of 
silence intervened, and the summer stillness reigned 
once more in its perfection. 

There was the dear silver-gray shawl softly and 
peacefully resting in its very own comer, where It 
was so sure to be, and a gleam of comfort reached 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 71 

over from it and almost made light under the 
shadows for a moment, if no more ; and there was 
Hans* little saucer face gazing with an earnestness 
Ruthie had never supposed could come into it ; and 
there was his Barbara, whose sunny eyes and meas- 
ureless shoulders seemed like one broad warm 
smile all the year round, and Aunt Penelope with 
her face turned a little to one side, and the Judge, 
and the Ashburtons, and that beautiful, rich Miss 
Gray, whom Ruthie had watched the Judge show 
to her pew with so much deference and respect. 

" I wonder how he would answer her^ if she came 
to him in trouble," thought Ruthie ; and then she 
determined she would not think of him again, but 
try to listen to what the minister was saying. 

But it was of no use ; she could not listen, any 
more than she could look into the silent hearts 
around her, and see that Aunt Penelope in search- 
ing hers for anything that was wrong had deter- 
mined to forgive Ruthie on the very first signs of 
repentance ; and that the Judge, getting a glimpse 
of one of the little clinging figures by her side, 
hoped she had made up her mind to send them 
away, for he meant to increase his charities this 
year and should be glad .to assume the expense of 
one of them at school, or anywhere else. She could 



71 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

not look into Eleanor Gray's and see that, full ol 
peace and joy and love toward all the world as it 
was, she too had noticed the group that followed 
her as she came in, and was yearning toward them, 
and longing to give out of her fulness some little 
comfort into Ruthie's solitary heart 

The few last words of benediction were pro- 
nounced at last, and the little company rose and 
made their way softly down the aisle. Ruthie 
shrunk back as she saw Eleanor coming, she seemed 
such a dazzling vision of beauty and grace, and she 
did not know her, and of course she never should. 
But Eleanor lingered too, and would not pass until 
she had caught Ruthie's eye, and given her with a 
half bow, a smile that went to her heart like a sip 
of cordial to one wandering in the cold. 

But one sip does not last long against such a 
utruggle as Ruthie was having with chilly winds, 
and by the time the sun went down she could not 
bear It any longer. She must get warm somewhere ! 
Where should she go ? There was only one place 
(or that. 

*♦ There, Piper,*' the little dressmaker was say- 
ing to herself, "you really must not read another 
mluvUo ; this light is ruinous, worse than sewing on 
bUv k In the ex-ening, by half, and you *re losing the 



RUTHIETS VENTURE, » 

sanset too ;" and she put down her book, and was 
just leaving the queer green cushioned rocking- 
chair to watch the last fading outline in the west, 
when Ruthie's black dress flitted by the window, 
and she heard her hand upon the latch of the 
yellow door. 

" Why if this is n't the most remarkable thing !" 
exclaimed the little dressmalier, hurrying to bring 
her in ; " do you know I had been so busy planiring 
for you yesterday, and went to bed last night with 
so many thoughts of you on my mind, that it was 
an hour and three minutes before I ever got to 
sleep, and I was almost afraid I was not going to 
leave the burden where I ought ; but this morning 
I waked up with a text that seemed to carry it all 
away, and has kept me so satisfied all day that if I 
had n't been afraid it would look just a Kttle strange 
to the neighbors on Sunday, I should have slipped 
down to tell you an hour ago. 

•* It came right into my mind without my ever 
thinking of it, and kept going over and over till I 
got fairly into church ; * Blessed shall be thy basket 
and thy store,' and though of course it does n't mean 
exactly all that we were thinking of, there 's enough 
in it to take one comfort out of, is n't there, dear ?" 

" But what is the matter, you dear heart ?" she 



74 RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

added hastily, as Ruthie did not answer, and she 
discovered that the little face she had seen so 
flushed and hot the other day was white and dreary 
now, only the brown eyes shining into hers with a 
look Miss Piper had never seen in them before. 

"O Miss Piper!" said Ruthie, "what is the 
use of texts if people can't be like what is in them ? 
I would n't care what happened, I could fight my 
way through anything it seems to me, if people 
only would be kind ; but I can't seem to bear that, 
I do n't know how indeed !" 

" Why, you poor little thing," said Miss Piper, 
reaching out her arms and drawing Ruthie so close 
that the best neck-ribbon brushed across her soft 
brown hair. "What has happened now? I do 
hope you have n't had a call from Aunt Sally !" 

"No," said Ruthie, "I've been to see Judge 
Larcom, and asked him if he 'd help me just a little 
while." 

" Oh, you poor lamb !" exclaimed Miss Piper. 
" Did n't you know better than that ? Did n't you 
know—" 

But Miss Piper checked herself suddenly. Of 
course she could n't tell Ruthie that Judge Larcom 
was a hard man, a very hard man, having no mercy 
on any people who varied a hair's breadth from what 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 75 

he considered right in anything they thought or 
did. 

" Why ?" asked Ruthie, the brown eyes looking 
up at Miss Piper from the still white face. 

" Why because he 's so— so peculiar, dear. You 
know I was remarking the other day that some 
people do seem to be, and I 'm very much afraid 
he's one. He's really a good man, dear, and he 
means to do right, atid wants every one else to 
also ; but he do n't always seem to see, he do n*t 
always seem to look at things just as other people 
do, or as the Lord would if he had the same thing 
brought to him. But he will see some day, dear ; 
the Lord will have to show him ; but it is such a 
very great pity in the meantime ! I suppose he 
did n't think you were wise, dear." 

"Then why couldn't he have told me so, as 
papa used to, and not looked so hard } He knows 
I am all alone in the world." 

"Don't say you are all alone in the world, 
dear," said Miss Piper ; " I 'm sure I feel exactly as 
if you were one of my own ; and just think how 
many there are depending upon you at home. And 
then, even if there were no one else at all, you could 
not be really lonely if you could only realize how 
near the dear Lord always is. If you could only 



76 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

feel that all these troubles are a touch from his own 
hand, drawing you, dear — drawing you where he 
can comfort and bless you, just as I long to, poor 
little heart, if I only could;" and the little dress- 
maker rocked Ruthie gently to and fro with a sort 
of nursery crooning, soothing and low. 

•*A touch of his own hand, dearie," said Miss 
Piper softly again, after a moment had passed; 
" that is some comfort, is n't it ?" 

Ruthie was silent. 

" He touches pretty hard sometimes, I think," 
she said at last, without looking up, and then burst 
suddenly into a flood of tears, the first her brave 
heart had allowed itself since she had stood up to 
face the fight before her. 

' There, dear, there !" said the little dressmaker, 
without answering what she said. '' I *m so glad to 
see you cry ! The very best thing you can possi- 
bly do, the very best." 

Miss Piper was right, and when Ruthie raised 
ner face again she was herself once more. 

" Dear Miss Piper," she said, " I 'U try to believe 
he loves me as well as you do. If I thought Judge 
Larcom and Aunt Penelope were really like him, I 
should have to go along alone, I 'm afraid." 

'' Of course/' said Miss Piper, with a little nod 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 77 

" But I must decide what else to do," went on 
Ruthie. " I can't go and live as a charity patient 
at Aunt Sally's, and she don't want me to, if I 
could ; and mamma could not go without me, and 
the children would break their hearts, and we should 
all feel like giving up the ghost together. Judge 
Larcom was very good to offer money for the chil- 
dren ; but I do n't want charity, I want to work." 

" Dear heart," said Miss Piper, " if I only had 
work enough to give you ; but I have n't. Or if I 'd 
only laid up money in time gone by, you wouldn't 
call it charity from me, I am sure ; but I did n't. 
Or if you could sell that house, and all be comfort- 
able in this one ; but you could n't. But I never 
had a text come to me as that one did this morn- 
ing, that it didn't mean something, and I asked 
two or three yesterday, as they were going by, what 
they would think the chances were for a store here, 
and it was really remarkable what they said. I '11 
tell you more about it to-morrow, dear, and we'll 
find some way to bring it about, I 'm sure." 

" Aunt Penelope never will forgive me if I do," 
said Ruthie. "I don't care much whether Aunt 
Sally does or not, if the truth were told." 

" Oh, yes, she will," said Miss Piper, whose char- 
itable soul never would believe evil of any one as 



78 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

long as she could possibly help it, and then always 
tried to find an excuse for him. " The idea was so 
sudden the other day, you know, and then I do 
think she rather has a way of letting Aunt Sally 
speak first at all times. And now do n*t think a 
bit more about worries till to-morrow, but just rest 
and take your comfort, and never mind what any 
one does or says, except the Lord." 

" And you, dear Miss Piper," said Ruthie, with 
a smile that looked almost like old times ; and when 
the yellow door shut once more behind her, she 
walked away " rested and comforted " already, feel- 
ing something like the hope and energy of young 
life warming her pulse once more. 

Miss Piper stood watching her with a yearning 
sort of glow reaching after her from her own heart. 

" Poor little thing !" she said softly ; " she *s 
such a brave little woman too !" 

But just then Ruthie came to a fork in the road, 
one turn of which led her home past the Judge's 
house, and the other avoided it by a long way round. 
Ruthie took the long way with a quick movement, 
as if she did n't even want to look the other way, 
and Miss Piper's face suddenly ceased to shine. 

"O dear!" she exclaimed, "I do wish people 
who undertake to believe in the Lord would believe 



RUTHIB^S VENTURE, 79 

m him as their Lord and Master as well as their 
High Priest!" and she went back to the queer 
green-cushioned chair and rocked sorrowfully and 
silently a little while. But she would n*t have been 
Miss Piper if she could n't have found something to 
hope for, and her face brightened up suddenly. 

" However, I do hope, if the Judge ever should 
take a second wife, she may be some one who will 
have a softening influence," she said. 



So RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

The next morning dawned fair and clear, and 
the breezes that made their way down from the 
hills on every hand roused the pulse with a sug- 
gestion that Sunday was past, and it was time for 
stir and work once more. 

The hint seemed to have been taken at Mrs. 
Ashburton's, for before Eleanor had risen from the 
breakfast-table Miss Fanny appeared, pony-phaeton 
and all, before the French window that opened on 
the gravelled carriage-drive. 

"No, thank you," she said, as the gardener 
stepped up to take the reins from her gauntleted 
hands, and she nodded and beckoned to Eleanor 
through the open sash. 

' Don't you feel like taking a breezy drive over 
the hills r she asked, as Eleanor stepped through 
and sprang down from the piazza to the phaeton*s 
side. "Mamma wants some things carried out to 
one of her old women, and I seem to be the only 
one who has n*t some other plan cut and dried for 
the morning. I thought we could have a good 
peaceable talk, if you 'd go ; there is such a whirl all 



RUTHIBS VENTURE. 8i 

the time at our house, there 's no saying ten words 
together to anybody." 

" By all means," said Eleanor. " We shall have 
our own house full to-morrow, and there will te an 
end of quiet mornings, as you know. You wont 
think you are desolate if I go, will you, papa ?" she 
added laughing. 

" Of course I shall," answered Mr. Gray ; " but 
I believe Briggs wants tne this morning about that 
new grapery he persists in having, and his are fear- 
ful toils to fall into. I dare say you will find he has 
me still when you get comfortably back." 

They were off in a few moments, and for the 
first mile or two neither of them seemed inclined to 
make much of their opportunity in the way of talk. 
The fresh brush of the morning air in their faces, 
the sparkle of the dewy fields, the picturesque grace 
of every outline that l^y around them, from the wil- 
low-swept mill-pond close at hand, to the gleaming 
lake, blue hills, and shadowy mountain peaks far- 
ther away, all together seemed too great pleasure 
to be interrupted or competed with by trifles about 
yesterday or to-morrow ; and they drove on almost 
in silence, until the hills closed suddenly around 
them, and they entered a narrow, shady cut through 
some beech woods skirting the base of the nearest 



82 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

"Well, certainly," said Miss Fanny, as she 
loosened the reins and let the horse take his own 
pace along the fragrant road, " this Glenbury is the 
loveliest place I ever saw in America. What a 
Switzerland it would make if we could scatter a few 
chalets and bright-colored peasants about !" 

" I do n't know," said Eleanor ; " it seems just 
itself to me, and nothing else ; but I am glad other 
people like it, for papa seems determined to spend 
his summer here, and he can't be happy without 
just such a host around him. If we had the coun- 
try seat of an English duke, we might have as 
many as he wants under our own roof ; but as we 
have n't, I am glad to hear of any one building, or 
boarding, or anything else." 

" Did you meet the McDowells in the city last 
winter ?" asked Miss Ashburton. 

" Yes, several times," replied Eleanor. 

"Don't you think they're nice?" asked Miss 
Fanny again, touching her horse absently with her 
whip. 

" Why, yes, I suppose so," said Eleanor laugh- 
ing ; "but I do n't think you know people very well 
when you only see them three or four evenings 
among a crowd of others, who dress and laugh and 
talk exactly as they do." 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, S3 

" Well, there 's a good deal more in them than 
many others of the crowd, when you do find them 
out," said Miss Fanny. "Mrs. McDowell is after 
mamma's own heart a good deal, and Elise and I 
used to see each other very pleasantly, for we had 
the same days at the hospital last winter. Fred is 
a talented fellow too — stood very high at Princeton, 
and can do almost anything he likes, they say ; but 
he seems to be sowing wild oats a good deal this 
last year, I'm sorry to hear. There must always 
be a black sheep in a family, I sometimes think." 

" Oh, I hope not," said Eleanor. " I never saw 
anything out of the way when I met him, and I 'm 
sure if he can stay here a summer, there must be 
something reasonable to offset the rest But about 
the hospital: did you say you were there every 
week ?" 

"Every week at the Good Samaritan's, and 
every week at St. Christopher's. St. Christopher's 
is for the children, you know," said Miss Fanny. 
" Dear me, yes : that seems half my winter, on look- 
ing back ; the visits take so much time, and then 
there are always so many other calls of every descrip- 
tion growing out of them." 

"And that shows the truth of what I was say- 
ing, of not knowing anything about each oth^r, 



84 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

after all. I never dreamed you were doing such 
things, and met you certainly half the evenings I 
was out." 

Miss Ashburton laughed. 

" Oh, the hospital was only one among a dozen 
other things," she said. "I had my days at the 
mission schools, and I was director — the youngest 
one too — at the House of Mercy, and was the 
regular shopping commissioner of all the country 
cousins we had ; and I only wonder how I ever got 
through and found anything left of myself by the 
time the day was over and my evening engage- 
ments came on. Of course no one wants to drop 
out of society entirely, and I always managed to 
keep my evenings and my Wednesdays at home." 

" But oh, how delightful it must have been !** 
exclaimed Eleanor, looking wistfully at her com- 
panion. 

"Why, yes," said Miss Fanny, "one always wants 
spmething to do ; one does n*t like to settle down 
to vapor and vacancy when she feels that she has 
been made capable of something better. I have n't 
any special talent, as Grace has, you know, and so 
I take up anything that seems to come to hand." 

"Oh, but you must enjoy it so; don't you?" 
asked Eleanor again, her, eyes shining with admira 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 85 

tion, though the wistful look had not faded away by 
any means. 

"Why, of course," answered her companion, 
wondering what made Eleanor look at her so ear- 
nestly. "You can't help feeling happy to know 
you have accomplished something ; and indeed I 
can't imagine any one feeling happy when she 
knows she has n't. But still I think Grace's talent 
is so enviable. She is all the time creating such 
beautiful things ; and, do you know, her pictures 
were very much praised at the exhibition this spring, 
and she is going to have a studio of her own next 
season, in the same building with IngersoU and a 
whole set of others." 

" Is she T exclaimed Eleanor ; and the same 
flood of regrets and aspirations that she had carried 
to Miss Piper two days before were very near get- 
ting possession of her for a moment. But she sent 
her thoughts like a flash over the lesson she had 
learned at the little dressmaker's and had been 
meekly pondering ever since, and the regrets were 
driven from the field. 

" But are not you all the time creating beautiful 
things too?" she said. "I should think, if you 
could make joy shine out of one of those poor, pa- 
tient, pitiful little faces at St. Christopher's, it would 



i6 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

be a picture to compare with any Grace's studio 
can boast." 

•*Why, you would make an enthusiast/' said 
Miss Fanny, laughing. " You must certainly come 
with me some day and see what kind of pictures I 
make. It is pleasant, certainly ; and then, even if 
I could be satisfied to sit down and feel myself a 
nonentity, I could not forget that I have a duty to 
perform. That good little minister yesterday said 
the truth, if he did n't. choose the most ornate form 
to say it in. We are bought with a price, and are 
not our own ; that thought always seems to be a 
spur. If the Lord gave his life for us, we certainly 
owe him some work in his vineyard, in one shape 
or another. I can't imagine a Christian feeling his 
conscience at rest in idleness when he thinks ot 
that. Now I believe that is our old woman's house 
just before us. Mamma said we were to leave the 
woods and climb a hill on our right, and find a very 
small house with a very large barn, both looking as 
if they had been hungry for a dozen years. We 
have filled out the programme, haven't we T 

She turned her horse to the fence, through 
which a neglected crowd of cinnamon roses pushed 
their way with an uncombed sort of look, and was 
preparing to alight, when three or four children 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 8; 

with white hair hanging over their eyes, and no 
perceptible dijBference but that of height between 
them an)rwhere, came crowding to the door, and 
stood gazing, as if she and the horse and Eleanor 
had all been wild animals together. Then a woman 
of the pattern of wives in Noah's arks pushed her 
way through them, scattering them to right and 
left. 

" This can't be the place," exclaimed Miss Ash- 
burton ; and then addressing the woman, she said, 
" Excuse me, I think I have made a mistake. I was 
looking for old Mrs. Monilaus. I must have passed 
her house just below, though I did not think it an- 
swered the description exactly." 

"Dear, no," said the Noah's ark woman, "that's 
Mrs. Pettit's, Judge Larcom's sister. You took 
the wrong turn at the fork, a piece back ; but if you 
just keep on to that there tall pine-tree that you 
see, and then pass right down by the watering 
trough, you'll find the house close by Deacon Gos- 
berry's. You can't miss it; and you'll see your 
way home right by Mrs. Monilaus' pasture clear as 
can be." 

" Thank you," said Miss Ashburton, in return 
for this lucid set of directions. " It was very care- 
less, I am sure ; but I think I see how it is now. I 



S8 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

am much obliged ;" and she gathered up the reins 
again for a start. 

"Oh, wait a minute," whispered Eleanor. *'I 
should like to astonish these children so, if they'll 
only take it kindly ;" and she ventured to toss out 
a shower of bright pennies, with a smile and a nod 
that persuaded the youthful starers she was no wild 
animal, after all, and sent them plunging and scam- 
pering in pursuit of the spoil 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 89 



CHAPTER IX. 

** Judge Larcom's sister!" repeated Miss Ash- 
burton to Eleanor, as she backed the horse a little 
away from the snarly roses, preparatory to a start. 
" I thought he seemed to know this road very well 
when we were asking about it the other night." 

"Dear, no!" began the woman again, "he don't 
ever come this way. He does for his sister, and 
makes her comfortable, but he never comes nigh 
her." 

"Never comes to see her!" echoed Miss Ash- 
burton. 

" No, not these six years. They can't seem to 
agree, or at least the Judge can't, and it takes two 
to make an agreement, they say. She went against 
him somehow when her husband died, and he did n't 
seem to get over it. They say he is n't apt to get 
over such things." 

"Very peculiar," said Miss Ashburton to Elea- 
nor, as they drove away. " I think there must be 
some mistake;" and then they put their united 
wits together, and succeeded in tracing the various 
waymarks by which they were to find Mrs. Moni- 



90 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

laus*. Half an hour was sufficient to make her a 
call and leave a basket, which together gave her 
material for excited discourse to the neighbors for 
a month to come, and then they quietly retraced 
their way down the hilly but well-worn road over 
which they had climbed a short time before. They 
had come down upon level ground again, and were 
passing a smooth stretch just before coming to the 
woody path they had found so fresh in the morning. 

A superb view lay stretched at the left as the 
lake-watered valley spread away from the mountain 
side they were skirting, and they forgot everything 
else as it opened before them ; but as Eleanor's eyes 
wandered back to their path for a moment, they fell 
upon something a little in advance, something white 
planted at the roadside, as if a Titanic white mush- 
room had sprimg up in the night. 

"Look here, Fanny!" she exclaimed. "Won- 
ders will never cease, and events do march on. 
Here is an artist's umbrella actually spread in Glen- 
bury!" 

Miss Ashburton looked, and so did the horse 
apparently, for he gave two or three significant 
snorts, pointed his ears, and gave signs of stopping 
short. 

Miss Ashburton touched him with her whip, and 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 91 

he gave up his apparent intention, but moved with 
prancing steps nearer the dreaded object, and as he 
continued his forced approach, curved as far as pos- 
sible to the other side of the road, till the chance 
seemed even between an overturn in the ditch and 
a positive refusal to progress. 

"What shall we do?" exclaimed Miss Ashbur- 
ton. " This is a new horse, and mamma would never 
have let me drive him, but our John knew the man 
who sold him to us, and assured us we could rely on 
what he said." 

The sound of her voice reached the owner of 
the umbrella, whose feet were just visible, as if a 
grasshopper sat under the mushroom, and he seemed 
at that moment to discover the difficulty, and has- 
tened to lower his tent. But so far from putting 
an end to the horse's alarm, the movement, and the 
sudden disappearance of his hobgoblin, made it 
worse than before, and with a lightning movement 
he backed, wheeled, iand fled on a wild run over the 
road they had just passed. 

The girls held their breath for an instant — an- 
other and another. Each seemed a hundred times 
itself, and each increased the speed of the terrified 
horse. 

'' What shall I do ?" exclaimed Miss Ashburton 



^ RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

again, as she perceived a short stony turn in the 
road lying just before them; "he is taking i»s to 
our destruction ; that is certain." 

*• Give me the reins !" said Eleanor with a sud- 
den determination, and seizing them from Fanny's 
trembling and nerveless hands, she exerted all her 
strength to turn the animal from the road. He 
yielded, and in another instant she had brought 
him up with rather a rough leap from the road to 
the grassy hollow at its side into a sort of V in the 
zig-zag fence. He struck it with a shock that 
wrenched the phaeton severely, and threw Eleanor 
and her companion almost from their seats ; but 
the horse himself panting in great snorting breaths 
and trembling in every limb, seemed thankful to 
stand still and feel his independent expedition at 
an end. 

"Thank heaven !*' exclaimed Miss Ashburton, 
"and what a girl you are, Eleanor ! He would have 
made an end of everything in another minute, and 
my strength was gone." 

"Airs well that ends well," said Eleanor; 
" but what are we to do now ?" 

" Do n't let us ask that question quite yet," re- 
plied Miss Ashburton. " I feel as if I wanted a 
few minutes to get my pulse down a trifle first of 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 93 

&1I, and it seems to me you look just a little white 

too r* 

'* I dare say," said Eleanor ; " but I think I '11 
just get out and see if there is anything left of the 
harness." 

She got out and began her investigations a 
little tremulously, but had not proceeded far when 
a quick run was heard behind them, and the owner 
of the umbrella overtook them, breathless, and with 
a face of quite as much alarm as their own. 

" Allow me, ladies," he exclaimed ; " I need not 
assure you that I am distressed. Are you injured ? 
I hope nothing very serious has happened ! What 
can I do for you ?" and he raised his hat as he came 
hastily to the side of the phaeton. 

Miss Ashburton gave him one quick searching 
glance. 

" Mr. Percival !" she exclaimed. '* Is it possible ? 
How did you ever find your way to Glenbury T 

"Miss Ashburton," returned the young man. 
•* This is a surprise indeed. I hardly know how I 
found my way to Glenbury — stumbled upon it, as 
artists do. But I shall be forced to think my evil 
genius showed me the way, since I have been 
the unfortunate means of causing this disaster, 
thankful as I am to see you are not hurt" 



9i RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

"Oh, I don't believe any real harm is done, 
thanks to Miss Gray's courage and horsemanship. 
But I did think all was over, for a moment. Elea- 
nor, this i« one of Grace's friends of the brush and 
easel." 

Mr. Percival bowed and then begged to com- 
plete Eleanor's examination of the horse and his 
outfit 

"You have come off well," he exclaimed, "I 
do n't believe there is any mischief done beyond 
what we can patch up ; but you must let me lead 
this creature home for you. Where did you get 
such an animal ! He has run before, you may be 
sure, and will repeat the exploit at the next possible 
, moment." 

The return home, if slower than their setting 
forth, could hardly be less pleasant with such an 
escort walking at their side, and Eleanor and Miss 
Ashburton were equally surprised when they saw 
the boundary of Mrs. Ashburton's place close at 
hand. 

" You must both come in to lunch with us," 
said the latter. " We shall be hero and heroines foi 
to-day at least, most certainly." 



\ * 



RUTHIE^S VENTURE. 95 



CHAPTER X. 

The sympathy of Miss Piper's loving soul had 
proved "balm and cordial and common comfort" all 
in one to Ruthie this time, and at a moment when, 
brave as she was, she had stood chilled and fright- 
ened with her first experience of life, and the peo- 
ple who make life a good deal what it is. 

"And just at the very age when she ought nat- 
urally to have home and shelter and a little happy 
time all provided for her," thought the little dress- 
maker ; but Ruthie reached the house by "the long 
way round," which Miss Piper had seen her take, 
cheerful and strong once more, and determined to 
take Miss Piper's advice, and "rest from all wor- 
ries" till the work-a-day week should begin once 
more. 

The house-door flew open in the hands of the 
children who had been straining their eyes for her 
for the last three-quarters of an hour, and she met 
them with a smile and a kiss, and then carried a 
bright face and cheery words into the close-cur- 
tained room, where, as the Aunt Dusenburys said, 



96 RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

" Octavia never let in light and air enough to keep 
a bird alive." 

She let them all hang upon her and draw upon 
her, and satisfied every demand, till the long even- 
ing came to an end, and when the last one was 
finally disposed of for the night, went softly up to 
her own room. Miss Piper had not quite brought 
herself to consider Sunday over yet, and a light 
was still shining through the window where the 
pasteboard sign was stretched. Ruthie left her 
curtain so she could just manage to catch a glimpse 
of it, and went quietly to sleep, with a warm spot 
in her heart that the glow of Miss Piper's light 
somehow helped to keep alive. 

But the sweeter sleep is, the shorter it seems, 
and Ruthie opened her eyes, hardly realizing they 
had been closed, except for the surprise of the 
cloudless morning light, and the pleasant sense of 
rest and refreshment that the night had brought 

But if we forget for a night, we must remember 
in the morning ; and in a few minutes Ethan Hard- 
hack, and the poorhouse, and Judge Larcom, and 
Hans, and her front parlor transformed by coun- 
ters, shelves, and sugar barrels, were all dancing a 
helter-skelter sort of merry-go-round in her brain, 
and her two aunts completed the circle, one crying. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 97 

" It would be a scandal !" and the other, " It would 
be a sin, a downright crying sin !" 

" I wonder which are the worst, sins of commis- 
sion or sins of omission," thought Ruthie, and 
then a new idea flashed like lightning in amid the 
throng. 

" Commission ! commission ! That 's it exactly. 
That would be better than begging or borrowing ; 
and if I hate both so much, why could n't I just 
take another person's goods and sell them on com- 
mission, as people often do ? There 's Mr. Mudge 
in the city. He has them by the shipload, and I 
know he liked father. It's dreadful to ask him, 
but I must do something; and if Miss Piper has 
inquired of a neighbor or two, and they agree with 
Hans, I '11 try." 

With Ruthie to resolve and to do were one and 
the same ; and before many hours had passed, the 
clerks of the great wholesale grocery of Mudge & 
Co. were astonished in the midst of city hurry and 
bustle by the entrance of a graceful girlish figure 
in deep mourning, and a fair face just tinged with 
the prettiest color in the world, and shaded by waves 
of soft brown hair, looking earnestly out from under 
a mourning hat, as if wondering who could be the 
proper one to speak to. The nearest one seized 



98 RUTHms VENTURE. 

the chance, and asked in the most deferential man« 
ner whom she wished to see, and escorted her 
through what seemed measureless tiers of boxes 
and merchandise to the private office, where, half 
hidden like a great gray lion behind his railing, and 
almost buried behind ledger and day-books, sat the 
sun and centre of the establishment, the important 
head of the house himself. 

They stopped at the gate of a heavy black wal- 
nut railing which partitioned off the rear end of the 
store, and where sunshine was discoverable again 
through two large plate-glass windows. The centre 
of this enclosure was an open carpeted space, fur- 
nished with easy-chairs and one or two desks ; while 
across each end ran other higher partitions of rail- 
ing and panelling, through the spaces of which were 
visible glimpses of more desks, more books, and 
heads of more partners or confidential clerks. 

Her attendant opened the gate and introduced 
her to another who stood inside with, "The lady 
would like to speak to Mr. Mudge," and she stepped 
in with a bewildered feeling, and wondering which 
of all these half-hidden heads she should have to 
encounter, and whether all the others would listen 
while she said her say. 

She had not long to wonder, for her new escort 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 9$ 

took her name at once to one of the offices not 
more private than the others, and stood quietly be- 
side a huge pair of shoulders that stooped over a 
piece of writing. In a moment, and without the 
hand that belonged to them ceasing its work, a 
voice said, "Well.^" and the clerk gave Ruthie*s 
name and request in a low tone. 

A moment without an answer, and the same 
voice replied in prompt business tones, "Ask the 
young lady to be seated five minutes, and I will be 
at liberty." 

The five minutes seemed half an hour to Ru- 
thie, as gentlemen and clerks passed and repassed 
with various errands to different desks, but no one 
embarrassed her by even a glance, and just as the 
clock on the wall had measured the last sixty sec- 
onds, the huge shoulders stirred, and a snowy head 
and a short gray beard, cut orang-outang fashion 
around a broad kindly face, were raised toward a 
clerk who was writing. " Take these papers to Mr. 
Collins," he said, "and say he will attend to them. 
I cannot give another moment to them to-day." 

" O dear," thought Ruthie, her heart going down 
with a little bump, *' he wont have a minute left for 
me then ;" but in less than that time the huge shoul- 
ders had emerged from the cage and stood beforje 



%^\^V^V 



ioo RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

her, stooping a little to give her a kindly touch of 
the hand, and to beg her to be seated again. The 
clerk stepped out, and they were to all intents and 
purposes alone, to Ruthie's great relief. 

"I am very happy to see you, miss," said the 
same prompt tones. "I remember your father 
from early boyhood, and assure you I felt his death 
as a personal loss. It was quite unexpected, I be- 
lieve." 

The color came up and went down again so 
quickly in the young face before him, that Mr. 
Mudge sprang to his feet and bustled about a mo- 
ment on pretence of doing something to the window 
shutter, and by that time Ruthie was herself again, 
and told him quietly the circumstances of her father's 
sudden summons from the dear old home. 

" Ah !" said Mr. Mudge, bending a little nearer, 
and looking into Ruthie's face with a respectful 
sympathy in his own, " and how many are there of 
you left ?" 

Ruthie told him, and Mr. Mudge said "Ah!" 
agiain, and leaned back, still looking at Ruthie. 

"And may I ask, I hope your father left you all 
comfortably provided for? This is a practical 
world and hard to meet sometimes, though I kno\» 
be was a very prudent man " 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, loi 

"He thought he left us provided for, but it 
does not prove so," said Ruthie, and she told him 
of Judge Larcom's visit and about the railroad 
bonds. 

"Ah!" said Mr. Mudge. "Judge Larcom; I 
know him very well. The bonds are gone then ! 
X am very sorry, but the house remains, I hope," 
and he leaned toward Ruthie again much as you 
might look at a bird that you were afraid had fallen 
out of the nest. 

"There is a mortgage," said Ruthie, and Mr. 
Mudge listened while she stated all she knew of 
Ethan Hardback and his hold upon the place. 

" Ah !" he said, leaning back again. " I 'm sor- 
ry to hear it ; and there are four of you," and he 
placed the tips of his fingers together and medita- 
ted a few moments. Then he started suddenly for- 
ward again, and looked close into Ruthie's face 
with a smile, as if difficulties were heard and dis- 
posed of, and it was time now for a more cheerful 
turn. 

" And now tell me what I can do for you, my 
child. We must do something, certainly, but you 
may have some nice little plan of your own. You 
seem the only one of the family to come to the front 
just now." 



102 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

The broad face that looked into Ruthic's oval 
one was homely as well as broad, with large mouth 
and heavy chin, and the beard certainly not of the 
most becoming cut; but it looked positively and 
radiantly beautiful to her, as it beamed with a whole 
irradiation of sympathy, courage, and good cheer. 
And he had not even waited for her to ask if he 
could help her, but had asked her instead to tell 
him what he might do I 

Ruthie could have kissed the rather large hands 
that grasped the arms of his easy chair with an ex- 
pectant gesture, waiting till she should speak. But 
time was something not to be lost in the house of 
Mudge & Co., and she began with her heart in her 
mouth. Would the cold shower-bath come over 
Mr. Mudge as it had over Judge Larcom } 

" I can only think of one way if we are to keep 
together," she said, and then went once more over 
the story of Hans' suggestion, and the plan it had 
given rise to. 

" Ah !" said Mr. Mudge, when he had listened 
and placed the tips of his fingers together again to 
reflect. " And how many families are there in your 
village r 

Ruthie gave him the modest estimate as well as 
she could. 



v. 



RUTHIBS VENTURE. \o% 

" Ah ! scattered, I suppose ; and no store at all ? 
Very strange !" 

"There was one," said Ruthie, "but it was 
burned two or three years ago, and there was no 
suitable building left/' 

" And have you felt the pulse of any of the peo- 
ple beyond your little German friend ?" 

" Yes," said Ruthie, " I am sure they would all 
be glad." 

" Ah ! and you are in good health ? You think 
you can bear being shut up six or eight hours a 
day?" 

Ruthie smiled, the first really bright smile that 
had come over her face since she was left head of 
her father's lonely house. 

" Yes, I am well, and I should not feel shut up 
if I were only working myself, and the rest of us 
free of debt and charity," she said* 

" Ah," said Mr. Mudge once more, and then ne 
got up and walked back and forth between the 
desks two or three times. 

" My child," he said at last, stopping suddenly 
before Ruthie's chair, " you are a brave girl, and I 
believe you 've hit upon an excellent plan ; the very 
thing for you. We never send out goods to be sold 
on commission, but you shall have all you want 



#04 RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

from us, for your father's sake and your own ; and 
as for what you'll need for dry-goods and small 
wares, I '11 arrange all that with Hamilton & Co. 
You 're a young thing, and a girl besides, and this 
is something new for a girl to undertake ; but I 
like your energy and your pluck, and you shall have 
a chance to try, at least. And would you like to 
know what my beginning was, Miss Dusenbury, in 
a little country place a long way from here.^ I 
saved up my sixpences till I had enough to buy a 
hogshead of molasses, and set it up in my father's 
wood-shed, and then went about among my neigh- 
bors and told them I had some excellent molasses 
that I would like to sell them in any quantity. And 
now I own one of the handsomest houses in the 
city, and can take a drive in my own carriage now 
and then if I like. You shall have a chance, my 
child. Are you ready for the goods to-morrow T 

" Not quite," said Ruthie, with a vision of the 
shut-up parlor before her eyes. 

" Very well ; send me a line, or call again when 
you are ready, and they shall arrive in twenty-four 
hours. That is all this morning, I believe." 

Ruthie suddenly remembered that minutes were 
gold to Mudge & Co. He had put himself so per- 
fectly at leisure till her business was settled thi*t 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 105 

she had forgotten it. She sprang up with eyes 
shining like stars. 

"But I haven't thanked you!" she exclaimed. 
*' I do n't know how to thank you !" 

" Do n't speak of it," said Mr. Mudge, the home- 
ly face radiant again with the look that had gone 
to Ruthie's heart before. "Your father was my 
friend, and indeed we all belong to one family, for 
that matter, you know. Good-morning, and re- 
member you always have a friend here ;" and he 
bowed her through the gate, and was deep in direc- 
tions to a clerk at his elbow again, before Ruthie 
had taken ten steps down the store. 

How different the return walk seemed, from the 
one she had taken an hour before, threading her 
way through unknown streets, asking a policeman 
if she was right, stepping round freight loads on 
the narrow sidewalk, and feeling that the porters 
looked at her as a rare object, while her head was 
bracing itself up with desperate determination to 
risk one more repulse. Now it was all aglow and 
so light that the pavements seemed air under her 
feet as she retraced her way rapidly toward the car 
she was to take* 

" Oh, it is n't that he said he 'd help me ; it is 
the way he said it," she kept repeating to herself 



lo6 RVTHIE'S VENTURE. 

"If he had thought just as Judge Larcom does, and 
only said, * My child* once with that tone, and that 
look in his face, I should have gone away comfort- 
ed. But what did he mean by saying we were all 
one family ? I 'm sure he really meant it, whatever 
it was, for he made me feel so rested, and as if some- 
thing strong was wrapped round me, just as I used 
to with dear papa, and as I did not think I ever 
should again !" 

Ah, little Ruthie, what did he mean ? Strong 
man and rich man as he was, had he not himself 
felt " rested" like a little child, and safe in a Care 
and Guardianship wrapped about him many a time, 
before he could ever have understood what your 
poor little heart wanted, and reached down so quick- 
ly and tenderly to meet it ? And do you not know 
that the same great Love that had taught him we 
are all children together, is reaching out to you, 
longing to give you rest and shelter, and peace, 
whatever storms may blow ? Well, while your feet 
linger, or you grope after it in the dark, take com- 
fort in this friend by the way ; for whatever warmth 
and gladness may fall upon you from his great sim- 
ple soul, is a reflection, faint and feeble it is true, 
of the Lord and Master he adopted for his pattern 
years ago t 



RUTHIEPS VENTURE. 107 



CHAPTER XI. 

The changes in the old parlor that Ruthie had 
dreamed of that restless night were not long in 
coming about under the magic '' You shall have a 
chance to try, my child," of Mr. Mudge. They were 
simple enough, but Hans Berger was in them all, 
over head and ears, and the gray pony and ribbons 
fluttered all day long under the old elm, as he sawed 
and planed and put up shelves and counters, and 
all, as he declared, for love and not for money. 

" Your father baid me money over blenty dimes, 
when I work for him," he said. " Now I work for 
you, I only bay a little pack. That is blain as 
plack and white, Fraulein Rute." 

The change in " Fraulein Rute" was quite as 
striking, and looked quite as much like new life as 
those that were going on in the stately but rather 
gloomy parlor. Hans looked at her now and then 
out of the corners of his round eyes, if they had any 
comers, and then bent his head over his work again 
and whistled part of a tune, making his saw or his 
hammer keep time to it as best he could. 

At last, catching a moment when his queer 



io8 RUTHIES VENTURE. 

puckered lips were not quite as full of nails aj 
usual, he spoke : 

" I think this work makes you over more than it 
makes the room," he said, quietly, but with the 
never-failing twinkle for all that. 

Ruthie laughed, the first really light-hearted 
laugh that had been heard in the house for many a 
day. 

" I think I do feel better, Hans," she said, 
springing across the room for a tool she saw he 
wanted, with her own elastic step, and catching a 
glimpse of bright cheeks and sparkling eyes as she 
passed the old mirror not yet taken down, on her 
way back ; " I did feel almost discouraged for a 
little while." 

" Oh, discourage will never do ; it must be al- 
ways persevere," said Hans. "In Chermany we 
always say, * Bersevere pegin to get rich, just where 
discourage people give up.' Pray is good too ; pray, 
and never give up ; that prings it, every time, 
almost." 

Ruthie hummed a little tune and then glancing 
through the blind, was sure she saw Aunt Sally's 
face at the end window of the other house, gazing 
anxiously, spectacles and all, toward the gray pony 
under the tree. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 109 

" O dear," said Ruthie, " I 'm afraid Aunt Sal- 
ly will never give up ! I ought to tell her what I am 
doing, but I can't seem to bring my mind to it." 

"Not for what will she never give up?" said 
Hans, dropping two or three nails in his effort to 
ask the question. 

" She will never forgive me for keeping a store," 
answered Ruthie. 

"And what for should you not have a store?" 
asked Hans, stopping full in his work and taking 
out the whole supply of nails at once. He had 
been fully converted to women's rights in such 
things during the last few days, and no other 
difficulty was left in the range of his imagination. 

"Why, she thinks it will disgrace the Dusen- 
bury name," said Ruthie, with a half laugh and 
half flush of vexation together. 

Hans gazed at her a moment, till he was sure 
he had taken in the whole idea of Ruthie's words, 
and then uttered one slow, long-drawn exclamation, 
" Pff !" Then he picked up the nails, shut his lips 
over them with a redoubled pucker, and hammered 
away with blows that made the roof-tree ring. 

Their echo made its way down to the other 
Dusenbury house, and Miss Sally's face appeared 
again at the window for a long, searching gaze ; but 



£10 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

only the old gray horse stood there, and she could n't 
see through him, nor through the front blinds of 
the new shop, that were not to be opened till the 
sign was ready to go up. 

" I wonder what all that hammering is down at 
Jotham's," she said, looking nervously at Miss Pe- 
nelope, with spectacles set sharply on her nose. 
" That gray pony has been standing there morning 
and afternoon the last two days." 

"I thought I heard a hammer too," said Miss 
Penelope between the clicks of her needle. 

"To be sure you did," answered Aunt Sally. 
" It can't be possible that undutif ul child is really — " 
but she stopped there, as if the rest of the thought 
was too painful to put into plain English. 

" She was not at home yesterday when I went 
up to see Octavia ; she had gone to the city," said 
Miss Penelope, uncomfortably hurrying to get into 
the middle of her needle ; and then, punching the 
ball with the whole four at once, she came hastily 
tD the window and looked over Aunt Sally's shoul- 
der to see what she could see. 

But she saw nothing more than Miss Sally did, 
and they both went back to their seats, and the 
blows of Hans' hammer still came echoing in be- 
tween the creaks and the clicks. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. iii 

"Octavia didn't say anything very particular 
when you were there, did she ?" asked Miss Sally 
at last, uneasily. 

Miss Penelope shook her head. 

"She only said she was much obliged to us, 
but she and Ruthie didn't feel as if they could 
really decide for a few days," she answered. 

Miss Sally got up and went to the window once 
more, and that time she really saw something. A 
little sombre figure, with a bit of something white 
in its hand, skipping along the grassy roadside tow- 
ard the house. 

"There comes one of the children," she said. 
" I do believe they *re sending down a note !" 

Miss Sally was not mistaken, and at the end of 
three minutes she was holding a missive from 
Ruthie in her hands, and reading it with mingled 
emotions on her face. 

"What is it?" asked Miss Penelope with a 
frightened look, as Miss Sally sank down into her 
chair again. 

"What is it.^ You can see for yourself," she 
said, handing the note to Miss Penelope, who hur- 
ried to get on her " reading-glasses," while Miss Sal- 
ly's face grew white, and settled into cold, hard lines. 

It was an innocent-looking note, and dainty, as 



112 RUTH IE' S VENTURE. 

everything that came from Ruthie's taper fingers 
was sure to be ; but Miss Penelope looked fright- 
ened, and her hands shook a little as she read : 

" Dear Aunt Sally : Mamma and I have deci- 
ded that the store seems to be the best thing for us 
to try, and a friend of papa's is so kind as to help 
us about it. I do hope you and Aunt Penelope 
will not object, now that you have had time to think 
of it. There really does not seem to be any other 
way, and I can't help thinking honest work is more 
respectable, even for a girl, than for us all to be liv- 
ing on other people. 

" Mamma sends you thanks for your kind offer, 

and hopes you will come and see us, and I should 

like to show you the store when it is done. 

" Your affectionate niece, 

« RUTHIE D." 

Miss Penelope's ball fell from her lap and rolled 
quite across the room, and yet she did not stir, but 
only gazed, as if petrified, at her sister. 

"The undutiful, impertinent girl," Miss Sally 
found strength to say at last, "to fly in the face of 
all I said to her the other day, and then turn round 
and instruct me as to what is respectable, and add 
insult to injury by asking me to come up there and 
see what she has doneT' 



RUTH IE' S VENTURE. 113 

" It is astonishing/' said Miss Penelope, " and I 
was only waiting for her to come round, to forgive 
and forget her thinking of such a thing, and even 
the rude way she left us the other day." 

" Come up and see the store, indeed !" said Aunt 
Sally. " Never, never will I set foot in that house 
again ! I have seen it for the last time !" 

The anger in Miss Penelope's face gave way in 
part to an uneasy look. 

" That seems a good deal to say, sister. Are 
you sure that would not be a little hard T' she said. 

" Hard } And what would be hardest, I should 
like to ask, for me to say I have been in the house 
for the last time, or for a Dusenbuiy to go and see 
a niece keeping a store, and waiting on every man, 
woman, and child, that may come in, as if she had 
neither family nor modesty to remember ?" 

Miss Sally moaned, and Miss Penelope waved 
her hands despairingly towards her in return. 

"I don't know," she said again, after a few 
moments' pause ; " we ought to forgive ; but I can't 
remember that we are told to do it unless our broth- 
er repents." 

"There'll be no repenting in this case, you may 
be sure," said Miss Sally. 

**Don't you suppose you might bring Octavia 



114 RUTHIBS VENTURE. 

to give it up, if you were to go right up and remon* 
strate in a very determined way?" asked Miss 
Penelope. 

Miss. Sally shook her head. 

"The only thing Octavia ever had a spark of 
energy about was holding to her own way, for 
life or death; and Ruth is exactly like her," she 
said. "We have offered her a comfortable home,, 
and if she refuses it, I will not lower myself by 
going up there and entreating, only to be refused 
again." 

Miss Penelope did not know what to say, and 
the creak of Miss Sally's chair was all that broke 
the painful silence again. Then it ceased as Miss 
Sally rose, and stepping majestically to the end 
window, drew the shade down with an energy that 
endangered the strength of its slender cord. 

"That curtain will never be raised again by 
me," she said, "so long as such things go on in a 
Dusenbury house. If I can't save the family from 
disgrace, I will not look on and see, at least. If you 
wish to raise the curtain, Penelope, I will sit in 
another room." 

The curtain was not raised, and no visit was 
made, and Ruthie's quick instincts put two and two 
together, and saw through the shaded window much 



RUTH IE' S VENTURE, 115 

better than her aunts had been able to penetrate 
the closed blinds of her own. 

" It 's a pity," she said, half laughing, but really 
sorry; "that is the only window where the sun 
does not get in on the carpets. It will be pretty 
nearly solitary confinement, down, and we might be 
taking such comfort together all round ! Well, some 
people 'certainly are peculiar,' as dear little Miss 
Piper says." 

But facts did not leave much room for fancies 
where Hans was at work, and before Ruthie had 
much time to think about the curtain, shelves, coun- 
ters, and drawers were all complete, and the old 
parlor was lost in the shop as completely as the 
working-day Hans was transformed from the meek 
black-coated little man who sat beside his Barbara 
on Sundays at the church. 

" Now for the sign," said Hans at last, and he 
sang Alpine songs over his paint-pots a whole day, 
as he brushed and labored over it. But the songs 
prove 1 gayer than the sign when it was done, and 
Ruthie stood still, appalled at what she saw. 

" Suppose we let it wait a little while," she said 
** I guess every one will hear the news, if we do n't 
take pains to help them." 

Hans looked doubtful ; but the promised goods 



n6 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

arrived just at that moment, and he must be the 
man to open them ; and the ends of the blue hand- 
kerchief bobbed round the boxes as if they belonged 
to a crazy man. 

Ruthie was right about the news; the whole 
country side was talking it over already. " A girl 
keep a store ! And a Dusenbury girl besides ! And 
only seventeen years old at that ! I 'd like to see !" 

So they came to see, beginning with the very 
day the blinds were opened, and coming more and 
more, till a regular caravan stood tied around the 
old elm-tree, and the remarks of the customers as 
they came out with their parcels looked very much 
as if they would be likely to repeat their visits. 

"She's a stunner !" exclaimed one blue-smocked 
old farmer who emerged with his arms full. He 
had got his first inkling of the new store from Miss 
Piper, from her inquiries when he stopped under 
her window to complain that his sheep were sick, 
and ask if she had any recipe that would suit the 
case. 

"She's got the prettiest, genteelest way ol 
waiting on a body that ever I came across !" said 
another. 

" I don't believe you could ask that girl for the 
thin^ she hasn't got, stowed away as fresh as a 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 117 

May morning," said Deacon Gosberry, one of the 
"obstinate fellows" Judge Larcom had complained 
of, as he made his way out, piled with brown par- 
cels to his good-natured chin, and only his never- 
failing smile, and round rosy cheeks aM4 Quaker 
hat visible above. 



IiS RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 



CHAPTER XII. 

The city, to which Ruthie had looked so anx- 
iously a week before as her last hope of help, and 
which she had about forgotten again in the excite- 
ment of all that was going on at home, had been 
whirling and hurrying, working and wasting ever 
since, as busily as when she threaded her way un- 
noticed among its throngs. The street through 
which she had passed watching for the number of 
Mudge & Co. was as crowded as before with mon- 
strous truck-horses, heavy loads, teamsters, porters, 
bales and boxes, and the two stylishly-dressed young 
men who came loitering through, arm in arm, found 
as much trouble as she had met in obstructions to 
their path. 

This did not seem to disturb them, however, 
beyond an occasional break in their conversation, 
as they were separated for a moment, and the thread 
seemed easily taken up again. 

" Yes," one of them was saying in a lazy tone, 
as if speech was too much of an effort, "it's getting 
pretty dull, and no mistake. It 's hard times, that 's 
the amount of it, and I don't know where we're 



RUTHIE^S VENTURE. 119 

going to raise the wind. There's no making a jolly 
time of life without a specie basis to fall back on, 
and I 'm getting pretty low myself just now. Wyn- 
koop and Mario w are about played out, and Webster 
tried a string with Hale last night, and went over 
head and ears. The truth is, our whole set is run- 
ning high and dry, and we shall all die of the vapors 
together if we can't start a little new life somewhere 
for the two weeks before it's the fashion to go into 
the country." 

"Better try transfusion," said his companion, 
with a laugh. " The best of stock will bear a graft 
now and then." 

" What do you mean V asked the first speaker, 
fingering an eyeglass that hung over the breast of 
his coat in the very latest style. 

" I mean we had better take a new member into 
our club. Boundaries are sacred, I know; but if 
we could get hold of some good fellow with plenty 
of fresh young credit in his veins, and who has n't 
rubbed the charm of novelty off from some things 
yet, he might give us a new start, or furnish game 
for a little while, at least." 

" Good idea !" said the bearer of the eyeglass, 
rousing himself for an approving blow on his com« 
panion's shoulder. " You *re a bright fellow, Thorn- 



129 RUTHIKS VENTURE. 

ton ; but where 's your subject coming from ? Such 
specimens are scarce ; and he must n't be too ver- 
dant, you know, or he 'd lower our reputation." 

" Of course," replied Thornton. " I *11 look out 
for that, never fear. How would young Larcom do T 

"Larcom!" returned the man of the eyeglass, 
languidly ; " who in the world is he T* 

"Why, you know him; you met him at the 
Shelbys* with me. I *ve seen him there half a dozen 
times." , 

"Oh yes, to be sure. A pretty quiet place to 
draw for a boon companion, there at the Shelbys'. 
But he isn't even of age, is he ?" 

"Not quite, I believe; but he'll have something 
of his own when he is, I'm told, and I guess he's 
pretty fresh into the bargain. Bright too, there's 
no trouble about that ; reading law or some such 
thing. And I believe there 's the very fellow this 
moment, not two blocks ahead of us." 

The owner of the eyeglass made the great exer- 
tion of raising it to his eye, and remarked that he 
believed it was. 

" Shall we try him ?" asked Thornton. " He 's 
all right as far as connections go. His father 's a 
respectable big-wig, I believe, and no end of the 
specie basis you were talking of." 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 121 

" Well, if you like," replied the other, dropping 
the eyeglass as an exertion too great for longer 
continuance; "but it*s too much work for me. 
He's pretty safe if he gets into your hands, any 
way. You might bring him round for an evening, 
at least, and let the other fellows see what he's 
made of ;" and drawing his arm lazily out of Thorn- 
ton's, he beckoned a car passing the corner they 
had just reached, and stepped upon it. 

Thornton turned the comer, walked rapidly 
after Tom Larcom, and overtook him while the eye- 
glass was still watching from the platform of the 
car. 

" Hallo !" he said, locking his arm into Tom's, 
*' what in the world are you doing away down here } 
I thought your work was at the other end of the 
town." 

Tom turned a frank, pleasant face to see who 
had taken him by storm. 

"Oh, it's you, Thornton. And what in the 
world are you doing down here.^" he returned. 
•* Trying to find out at which end of the city your 
work can possibly be, I suppose." 

" Do n't be savage," answered Thornton, with a 
laugh. "A man must have a little holiday some- 
where ; and besides, peoole with nothing to do are 



Ill RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

always busy, you know. There 's always some sport 
turning up from one day to another." 

" Humph !" said Tom ; " you 'd find it a different 
thing if you were shut up in a law office, living on 
dust and parchment, and hating the smell and taste 
of both." 

" Hallo !" said Thornton, " reading up a profes- 
sion, and hating it before you begin ! A queer sort 
of bookworm, I should think." 

"No bookworm at all, and that's the trouble," 
replied Tom. "'Twas a dead-lock with the old 
heathen and their languages all the time I was in 
college, and I got a year knocked off on condition 
I 'd come in here. It *s out of the fryingpan into 
the fire, I believe ; but I 'm in for it, and no reprieve, 
for a year at least." 

"Governor, I suppose," suggested Thornton 
confidentially. 

Tom nodded, and his face darkened. 

" I like work as well as the next man," he said, 
" but it 's no use taking a fish out of water and set- 
ting it to swim on dry land. However, I ought to 
be used to it by this time." 

Thornton gave a low whistle. " Well, all work 
and no play wont do for any one," he said, " and 
you ought to have sport out of hours at least 



RUTHIETS VENTURE. 123 

Come down and try an evening at our club now 
and then. You may take such a fancy to it you *11 
be wanting us to set you down for the next vacancy. 
In fact, I think there is one now if I am not mis- 
taken." 

Larcom shook his head. " Can't afford it," he 
said. 

" Pshaw," said Thornton, " there *s no initiation, 
and the expenses are light. Some of the fellows 
play high, but that 's their own lookout, and we sober 
ones can stand by and give lectures if we like. 
They 're a first rate set, I assure you, and we shall 
be breaking up for the country before the month is 
out. I '11 call for you this evening, anyhow. Good- 
by till then." 

As he drew his arm from Tom's and stepped 
aside, a tall large man with huge shoulders and a 
line of white beard around his chin, gave a quick 
look into both their faces and a bow of recognition 
as he passed, and Thornton whistled again as he 
turned the next corner and disappeared from sight 

" That 's old Mudge, of Mudge & Co. !" he said, 
"I wonder how much of that little talk he got 
hold of.?" 

" Breaking up for the country !" repeated Tom ; 
"if their country homes were as jolly as mine^ 



124 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

they 'd keep clear of them as I do," and his brow 
darkened again, as it had when Thornton made his 
graceful allusion to Tom's father. 

" It *s enough to rust a fellow's heart out, too, 
shut up here with an army of musty law-books, like 
so many mummies strewed around for friends," he 
said, as he reached the office and let himself in with 
his key. 

His talk with Thornton had seemed to touch 
the wrong string, somehow, and the cloud settled 
more heavily on his face ; but it certainly was n't a 
face that nature had meant for clouds, though 
traces of their having been there often before sat 
strangely on the open brow, clear eyes, and pleas- 
ant winning mouth. 

" I do n't like those club arrangements," he said, 
after he had sat for half an hour with rather a yel- 
low volume in his hand. " I do n't know ten souls 
in the city beyond the Shelbys, and it *s a horrid 
bore, it 's true ; but as I told Thornton, I can't af- 
ford it and I would n't if I could, either. I know 
all I want to about those clubs. Thornton is a good 
fellow enough, I do n't doubt, but I shall be just as 
well off to meet him somewhere else," and he 
plunged into the book before him with a fierce sort 
of determination. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 125 

Not more than another half hour had passed 
when the office door opened and Judge Larcom 
entered, gold-headed cane in hand, and with his 
usual quick business step. 

" Why, I thought you were n*t coming in again 
this week," said Tom, looking up in surprise. 

" I did not intend to," replied his father, " but 
an old client wanted me to look up a matter for 
him. All well here, I hope," and without waiting 
for an answer he sat down and opening a package 
of papers, was soon lost to all around him. 

Tom sat with his book still in his hand, but his 
eyes wandered to his father's desk, and his thoughts 
seemed to wander after them in a way very unfa- 
vorable to progress in his own work. 

His father was growing old, he thought: not 
much so, it was true ; wonderfully little in fact for 
his age ; but still he could see a change, and he 
knew that his best years were really past, whether 
more marks or fewer had been left. 

A busy man he had been too ; a hard-working 
man, as Tom could realize better now than a few 
years before, and had made his own way and his 
own position in life, with no help from any one, as 
he had often told Tom. And what was it worth 
after all } 



126 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

*' I suppose he has his satisfaction in it in a sort 
of way," thought Tom; "of course he must; but 
outside of mere business considerations, what pleas- 
ures can he find in life, out at that lonely Glenbury 
castle above all ! I always felt like a ghost myself 
wandering about in it when I was there, though I 
don't know that it's much better anywhere else, 
for that matter. I wonder how fellows get along 
who grow up with somebody that understands them, 
and thinks as they do now and then, or speaks to 
them as if they were fellow-creatures, and needed a 
word of comfort, even when they do n't agree ! 
However, the world is n't all made alike, and can't 
make itself over, I suppose." 

He turned to his book again, but in another 
moment his eyes and thoughts had wandered back 
to the face and figure at the desk. 

"He's proud of me, I know," he went on, "or 
rather has always hoped the time would come when 
he should have a chance to be ; and I sometimes 
think seeing me a lawyer in his place, is all he looks 
forward to in life now. I believe he 'd be a lonely 
old man, with all his money, if it were not for that. 
I'll stick to it then, and fight through this worm- 
eaten old rubbish if determination can do it ;" and 
Tom squared to his book once more with a t^nd^r 



RUTHIE^S VENTURE. tlj 

soit of relenting at his heart that made it warmer 
than for many a day. 

An hour passed; the Judge's work was appa- 
rently done, and he sprang up, papers in hand. 

" Tom," he asked hastily, " where *s that memo- 
randum I gave you in charge the last day I was 
in?" 

" I put it on file," answered Tom, ** in the pack- 
age of Black and Hartley papers." 

The Judge caught up a file of papers and ran 
them hastily over, and the hard look that had over- 
whelmed Ruthie, but which Tom knew as an old, 
acquaintance, settled on his face. 

•* What do you mean i It 's not here,*" he re- 
plied in quick, irritated tones. 

" I feel sure I put it there," said Tom. 

" Feeling sure and being sure are two different 
things," retorted the Judge. "It's an important 
memorandum, and a whole case will be stopped if 
it cannot be found." 

Tom came to the rescue, and the desk was 
searched, but to no avail, and the shaggy eyebrows 
contracted into a dark frown. 

"Are you sure you have the right package in 
your hand ?" Tom ventured to ask. 

The Judge was angry now. The ride into the 



128 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

city had been hot, he was tired and perplexed, and 
he could bear anything better than a failure of trust 
or duty. 

" I take care to know what I am about when I 
am in my office," he said. "That's the way I have 
made my place in the world, and the way you *11 
never make yours, I 'm afraid. You think you want 
to go to business ; but what business man would 
have you in his employ, if you can't be trusted with 
a single paper — can't be depended upon for a single 
day.? You'd better go before the mast, where 
you '11 have an officer to keep his eye on you every 
moment, if you can't do better than this." 

Tom did not answer, but turned to his seat and 
took up his book again with close-shut lips. 

"That memorandum must be found before to- 
morrow," said the Judge. " I shall bring Hartley 
and Black in, in the morning," and taking his cane 
hastily in his hand, he left the office. 

When he had gone, Tom sat a few moments 
looking vacantly at the pages before him, then rose, 
and going to the desk took up the package of papers 
his father had searched in vain. It was marked 
Hartley^ Black, et als. 

He opened his father's private drawer, and 
there, thrown in with other papers, in the hurried 



RUTH IE' S VENTURE. 129 

work of a few moments before, lay the pile labelled 
Hartky and Blacky and the second paper in the pile 
was the missing memorandum. 

Tom locked the desk and went back to the 
chair in the window, while the sharp lines of his 
own face rivalled any hard ones that might have 
been reflected in it. 

" 1 11 go with Thornton," he said between his 
teeth. " It 's no use ; it *s no use fighting for my 
father's sake, or my own, or any one's else. I may 
as well cut adrift first as last." 

A vision of a little maiden with soft brown 
eyes, who used to make school-days the one bright 
spot of his life at Glenbury, years ago, and whom 
he used to see safely home, and leave grudgingly 
at the door of the great white house under the 
spreading elm, rose suddenly before his mind, and 
brought a quick pang, that was felt through all the 
other hot, tempestuous stirrings in his breast. 

" But what would she care more than any one 
else ?" he muttered ; and when, a few hours later, 
Thornton appeared at his lodging, and asked, "Are 
you ready?" Tom answered, "Ready!" and they 
walked away arm in arm. 



i30 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

For the first fortnight or three weeks the " Du- 
senbury shop" was the excitement of the region 
round about, and customers and trade flocked in 
until Ruthie was forced to engage Hans to help 
during the busiest hours of the day, and the. two 
together often found work for head and hands till 
the summer sun was nearly ready to go down. 

" Beeple must think this shop a good deal like 
heaven," said Hans one night, as he put up the 
shutters, fairly tired out. " Any how, all the world 
seems trying to get in." 

But as the summer sped on, the wonder wore 
away, and the new enterprise settled down into 
comparative quiet in the shape of a rather matter- 
of-course, but very convenient and popular estab- 
lishment. To Ruthie herself the first few weeks 
had brought such a host of new experiences and 
responsibilities, that the realities of life had hardly 
looked real to her excited heart and brain. 

To feel that she, the petted and sheltered child 
of a month ago, was standing head and front and 
Bole dependence of the family, and successfully too. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 131 

in spite of any frowns or cold water cast from out- 
side ; to find money coming rapidly into her hands, 
a share of which was her own, fairly earned; to 
think of Ethan Hardhack as a wolf kept at bay, 
and to be surrounded all day long by faces beam- 
ing with approval and good will — altogether it was 
quite a whirl for our little Ruthie to plunge into, 
and between the success of to-day and hopes for 
the future, her brave soul forgot for a time that it 
had any cause of pain. 

But pain will not be forgotten for many hours 
together, and Ruthie found excitement wearing oflE 
at last, and a dreary, desolate sense of loneliness 
and grief rushing in upon her now and then, even 
in the midst of the hurry and bustle of the day. 

How strange it seemed to be standing all alone 
in the world, clung to by others, to be sure, but 
with no sheltering arm thrown around herself, no 
strong, loving heart where she could rest, as she 
always had before. *' Brave little woman," as Miss 
Piper had called her, and as she was at other times, 
she felt like a child — a tired, lonely child, when 
these strange, sudden waves of altered feeling came 
irresistibly upon her, at rare intervals it is true, but 
bringing chill and darkness over all that had looked 
BO bright a little time before. ' 



132 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

It seemed as if Miss Piper was possessed with 
inspiration to come bobbing in at these very mo- 
ments, and the wave always receded a trifle as she 
stepped inside its range, though Ruthie took great 
care she should never discover there was anything 
but the clearest dry ground under foot. 

But one rainy day, when the children had seemed 
to want everything before they got ofiE to school, 
quite out of humor, and after they were gone there 
was no customer all the morning, and her mother's 
bell had summoned her a dozen times to hear some 
dispiriting complaint, she opened her writing-desk 
to look for a missing address, and her eyes fell upon 
a note written for her last birthday, and directed 
" To my little Ruthie," in her father's hand. At 
once the flood rushed in, and Miss Piper opening 
the door at that moment, the discovery was made. 

"So remarkable," said the little dressmaker; 
" I had just an hour and seventeen minutes to fin- 
ish a dress this morning, and I got within two finger- 
lengths of the end of a bias fold, when my sewing 
silk gave out, and I do n't know what I ever should 
have done if I had n't noticed a spool of the very 
same shade in your case the last time I was in. 
Such a convenience as this store is to me ! You 
need n't hurry, dear, for I have thirty-three minute^ 



RUTHIKS VENTURE. 133 

left, after all, and don't think I need more than 
four and a half to finish the work." 

Ruthie closed her desk and turned toward the 
tiny showcase Hans had constructed by a miracle 
of pains. 

" That is n't it," said the little dressmaker, slip- 
ping in behind the counter, " but I can put my hand 
right on it. Why, that 's the piping cord ! What- 
ever are you thinking of ?" and looking up suddenly 
at Ruthie, she caught her with her eyes full of 
blinding tears. 

" Why, you poor dear thing !" she said, putting 
her arms round Ruthie's slender waist, and draw- 
ing her gently to her side, " no wonder you could n't 
see one thing from another ! You poor, sweet heart, 
tell me what it is." 

" O Miss Piper," sobbed Ruthie, hiding her face 
between her tapering fingers, and dropping her 
head on the dressmaker's shoulder, "why need papa 
die ? He was so well and strong, and he loved me 
so! If he could only have lived a little longer! 
Why need he leave me quite so soon? It is so 
hard to feel all alone, and to miss him every hour 
and day !" 

"Yes, dear, yes," said Miss Piper, "I know it 
is ; I know it must be, all the time. Do n't try to 



134 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

keep it back, dear. Cry just as much as you want 
to ; there 's nobody coming, and I '11 keep watch," 
and she held the light little figure close, laying her 
cheek softly against the brown head on her shoul- 
der, and never stirring except to send quick, " Sister 
Ann" glances down the road for any wagon or um- 
brella that might approach while the flood-gates 
were opened, and Ruthie poured out together the 
tears and the heartache she had kept pent up quite 
too long. 

" There, dear, there !" said the little dressmaker, 
as Ruthie raised her head at last, and caught one 
long restful breath; "that was a comfort, wasn't 
it } You '11 feel better now, dear, and I only wish 
I 'd happened in when you were alone before. I 
don't believe you have a good cry half often 
enough." 

" I 've no one to go to," said Ruthie. " It 's the 
going to some one that 's such a rest." 

" Of course," said Miss Piper ; " but do n't say 
you haven't any one. You've always me, only I 
do n't like to mention things for fear there might be 
a minute somewhere in the day when you were n't 
thinking of them, and I should be sure to stumble 
upon that. But you know, dear, there is the ten- 
derest Heart of all always near, stretching out his 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 135 

arms, if you'll only rest in them and take your 
comfort." 

Ruthie shook her head. '' I wish I could. Miss 
Piper, but I can't. I try, and then I always remem- 
ber that it was He who sent the trouble, and He 
could have kept it away if He chose, and it is so 
hard really to believe that He is sorry for me now." 

She waited for the answer, but none came, and 
she looked up wondering into Miss Piper's face. 
It was grieved and troubled, and looked as if the 
little dressmaker, for once in her life, had no heart 
to speak. 

" Dear Miss Piper," said Ruthie, " you think I 
am very wicked, do n't you V* 

" I 'm so sorry, dear,'" she said, " and you might 
have such comfort." 

"But don't you see what I mean.^" asked 
JRuthie. 

"Of course," said Miss Piper. "It's just what 
Mary and Martha said, and just what the Israelites 
thought in the wilderness ; but we know how he 
was loving them all the time, and he 's loving you 
just the same, if you could only see it, now." 

Ruthie made a weary little sound, and rested 
her head against the counter a moment ; then sh« 
raised it and tried to smile. 



r36 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

" Do n't think I feel like this all the time," she 
said ; " it really is only now and then. And I will 
try to believe it ; I do try, indeed." 

"I wouldn't," said Miss Piper, "I wouldn't 
I 'd just go on a little while exactly as if I did be- 
lieve it, and try that. If you 'd just go right to him 
once, you would n't need to believe any more, you 'd 
know. You 'd feel him come so close and so near, 
and you'd be so rested and comforted, and feel 
such a warm joy shining, you've no idea." 

Ruthie smiled a real smile this time. 

" You dear Miss Piper," she said, slipping her 
arms round the dressmaker's neck, " I am sure he 
must love me a littley or he never would have given 
me such a friend as you ; and if every one were 
only as lovely as you are, I should — ^" 

"Oh, don't," said Miss Piper; "you mustn't! 
And there is Deacon Gosberry coming this second, 
and I've only eleven minutes left Do give me 
the sewing silk and let me run." 

Deacon Gosberry fastened his steed, smoking, 
not with the race, but with the drenching the day 
was giving him, to one of the three or four staples 
with which the old elm stood uncomplainingly 
pierced, and covered the wagon seat with an open 
umbrella, which had been of some color, it was im- 



RUTHTE'S VENTURE. 137 

possible to say what. There was a striking coh-« 
trast between the deacon's horse and himself, the 
formei being extraordinarily high in the hips, while 
the deacon, quite a large man otherwise, was very 
short in the knees, and by the time his rosy cheeks, 
kindly blue eyes, and smiling chin had penetrated 
the shop, he was quite out of breath with the effort 
of climbing up the steps. 

" Why, deacon," said Ruthie, as her eye fell on 
the raindrops that glittered on his faded green coat, 
"what a day you have taken to drive all the way 
from Grass Farm." 

" It 's the women folks," said the deacon, smi- 
ling the whole breadth of his chin, as he took an- 
other minute to gather up his breath. " My wife 
wanted some things — couldn't do without 'em any 
way in the world ; and I can't see her disappointed, 
you know. So I thought I'd put two and two to- 
gether and fetch what she wanted, at the same time 
I managed to do a little business of my own. How 
cheery-like you have got everything fixed in here, 
I declare," and the deacon looked radiantly round 
at the daintily -furnished shelves and the tidy 
drawers and boxes, and one window blossoming 
full of pinks and geraniums, while in the other stood 
a pretty table with Ruthie's writing materials, and 



I3S RUTHIES VENTURE. 

a new ledger and day-book, gayly trimmed with 
red." 

" I 'm glad you think so," said Ruthie. " Wont 
you sit down while I get the things ?*' and she drew 
a leather-cushioned arm-chair from the table and 
placed it by his side. 

" Thank you/' said the deacon, taking the offer- 
ed seat, and still beaming about the store, until 
Ruthie thought he had forgotten business alto- 
gether. 

"And what would Mrs. Gosberry like?" she 
ventured to ask, after a moment had passed. 

" Oh, yes, she wanted — ^" The deacon hesitated, 
stopped, and his face fell. He took off his hat, 
shook the raindrops from the brim, and passed his 
hand through his curly hair, but it was of no use. 
" There *s three of 'em," he said, pinching the three 
pudgy fingers he had pinched before leaving home 
to fix the number in his mind, ^^but what they 
were — ^" and he raised his face to Ruthie's with a 
look of entreaty pitiful to see. 

Half an hour before, Ruthie had felt as if she 
should never laugh again, but the expression of 
helpless woe on the round rosy face before her, and 
the thought of the equally round and benevolent 
one of Mrs. Gosberry, watching anxiously through 



RUTHms VENTURE. 139 

the kitchen windows for the deacon's return, changed 
the current so suddenly that spite of all effort, a 
smile would creep round the comers of her mouth. 

" What in nature they were, / do n't know," re- 
peated the deacon, still pinching the three fingers as 
straws for his drowning recollection to cling to " but 
they 're gone ! That 's certain !" and his upturned 
eyes gave Ruthie another look almost too much to 
bear. 

" Perhaps if you would think what she wanted 
them for," she suggested, holding very hard to the 
corners of her mouth ; " if you could remember 
what she is doing this morning." 

A ray of hope shone in the deacon's face, as 
sunlight struggles through the darkest cloud. 

" Dressmaking !" he said. " Women always 
are ! She 's been at it a week, with Sarah Catha- 
rine to help ; and come to think of it, that was 
about what she wanted !" 

'' But can't you think of the name ?" asked 
Ruthie, and a new burst of light broke in the en- 
treating eyes. 

" That is it exactly !" exclaimed the deacon, at 
last " At least one of 'em was ! It 's a name, 
sure enough, but it 's gone from me» this minute^ 
Cor all that" 



f40 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

" A name ?" repeated Ruthie, wondering if the 
deacon really had gone daft. 

"Yes," said the deacon, with a confident nod, 
"but not Mary, nor Susan, though 't wasn't far 
from either of 'em, I am sure." 

" Was it Jean ?" asked Ruthie, a sudden inspira- 
tion coming to the rescue. 

The deacon swung his hat half round, and then 
caught the three fingers again and held on for dear 
life. 

"Jane! That's it, and no mistake! And now 
there's only two more left," and he let go one fin- 
ger with an exultant air which wilted however in 
another moment, as he found two recollections as 
hopeless as three, on close inspection. 

" 'T was something crooked," he began at last, 
turning a helpless look up at Ruthie again. " Crook- 
ed as all creation, and I thought^ I 'd remember it 
by a ram's horn, but I '11 — " 

The deacon did n't say what he would do, but 
the missing link could not be found, and Ruthie 
racked her brains again. 

"It was n't twist, was it ?" she said suddenly, "a 
stick of twist ?" 

The hat went round again, till a spray of mist 
flew over the chair-arm when the deacon brought 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 141 

it down, and one finger was triumphantly released. 
"Well of all the Dusenburys I ever came across, 
you are the crowner," he exclaimed. " We 've got 
'em all but one now, straight as a bee-line 1" 

The darkest hour is just before day, and de- 
spair seemed to settle over the one remaining ques- 
tion. 

" I 'U" — and this time it came fairly out what 
the deacon would do — " go out to tea to-night if I 
can get that other one, even by the tip of its tail ! 
It 's clear gone !" 

" Silesia, button moulds, whalebone, sewing silk, 
piping cord ?" asked Ruthie suggestively. 

The deacon sprang up in his chair, and let all 
the fingers go at once. 

" Piping cord !" he exclaimed. " The very thing ! 
And do put up such a lot of 'em as will last as long 
as I live, let what will happen after that," he said, 
and by the time the bundle was ready, the deacon 
was radiant again, and his blue eyes gazing with 
delight on everything he saw. 

" You must think you Ve considerable favored of 
Providence," he said. " It is n*t every slip of a girl 
that Heaven gives such chance as this, nor that has 
spunk and brains enough to use it, if it comes. 
t hope you take comfort in it!" and the kindly 



142 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

blue eyes looked earnestly into Ruthie's own . " And 
there 's one thing more I wanted to say," he went 
on without waiting for the reply that did not seem 
quite ready. "Things don't always last, though 
sometimes they do, and I expect they will here ; 
but I just want to say, if you ever do see the day 
they look played out and you want to give up, just 
come out to my house, and you shall be as welcome 
as a spring morning, and have just the place Sarah 
Catharine does, so long as you will stay. I was 
coming down to say so a spell ago, but we heard 
talk of the store, and wife thought you *d rather try 
your own way first ; and she *s always sure to be 
right." 

The glowing smile Ruthie sent up to the dea- 
con's rosy face, and the moisture that sprang to her 
eyes at the same moment, as she put her little fingers 
into the great broad hand he held out, said more 
than words could say, and all the deacon wanted ; 
and he walked out, and down the steps, brushing his 
own eyes suspiciously with the hand the bundle 
left free. 

" If that is n't just the brightest prettiest little 
creature the Lord ever sent trouble to, I 11 — '' said 
the deacon as he unfastened the tie strap and got 
the umbrella of doubtful color into place. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 143 



CHAPTER XIV. 

If the deacon had gone away before he made 
that last speech, unusually long for him anywhere 
outside of prayer-meeting, Ruthie would have had 
her pent-up laugh merrily out ; but a brighter shi- 
ning still had come up into her heart with those few 
words, and she went over them and over them till 
the store began to look almost as wonderful again as 
it had in its first exciting days ; and between Miss 
Piper and the deacon, the weary, friendless feeling 
seemed vanishing away. How could she be so 
ungrateful as to talk of being alone in the world ! 

But visitors seemed to be making up for lost 
time, and Ruthie caught sight of a tall, elegant fig« 
ure, half hidden by umbrella and cloak, making its 
way steadily, in spite of mud and mire, toward her 
door. 

'* Is it possible it is Miss Gray ?" she asked, not 
venturing to believe her eyes. "What can bring 
her out, and on foot, such a morning as this?" 
But her eyes were shaping no illusion, and in an- 
other moment the Rgure was on the step, and the 
umbrella being lowered, Eleanor's &ice, clouded 



144 Rl/THIETS VENTURE. 

with her golden hair and glowing with the cool 
moisture of the day, was revealed. 

The flush the deacon's words had brought up 
into Ruthie's face was heightened as she saw that 
" the rich Miss Gray," whom she had been " sure 
she should never know," was coming in ; and she 
never looked prettier in her life than, as with her 
own quick, graceful movement, she stepped to the 
door, opened it, and took the umbrella from Elea- 
nor's hand. 

" You do n't put up the shutters and lock cus- 
tomers out on rainy days, do you ?" said Eleanor, 
as she gave her hand with a bright smile to the 
little shopkeeper. " I should think you would be 
tempted to, and have a good cosey time by yourself 
once in a while, after you're fairly tired out with 
everybody coming whenever they like." 

"Oh, that doesn't tire me," said Ruthie. "I 
like to have them come — the more the merrier ; and 
I should miss them more rainy days than any other." 

"Should you.?" said Eleanor; "then I'm all 
right coming in to-day. I am sure to feel seized 
with a perverse desire to go somewhere the moment 
it rains, and I wanted to see the wonderful store I 
have heard so much of ; so I brought up a little 
lample to see if you could match it for me." 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 145 

Eleanor didn't say she had also been seized 
with a determination to make friends with Ruthie, 
and that the yearning toward the lonely girl she 
had watched in the little church that quiet Sunday 
had been keeping warm in her heart and growing 
stronger there ever since. But the store had been 
too full of customers, and her own house too full of 
guests so far, for Eleanor to carry out any plan for 
making acquaintance, until this rainy morning 
seemed the happy moment, at least so far as the 
store was concerned, and she had slipped away 
from every one and everything for long enough at 
least to break the ice. 

Ruthie went behind the counter feeling very 
much about the store as Miss Piper had about her 
little front yard when Eleanor came in ; everything 
had a different look with that queenly beauty and 
grace standing in the midst of it all, and the slen- 
der fingers trembled almost imperceptibly as she 
made search for the article wanted. 

It was soon found, and then another and an- 
other were discovered by Miss Gray herself as "the 
very thing she was wanting, and so convenient not 
to have to send to town for it," until Ruthie's sales in 
that department equalled those of the sunniest day. 

" Why, how many nice things you have here," 

10 



146 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

exclaimed Eleanor at last, gathering up her bun< 
dies as the business discussions came to an end ; 
''it is almost as good as Aladdin's lamp, for all 
practical purposes, is n't it ?" 

•* Not quite, I 'm afraid," said Ruthie, laughing, 
as her last faint feeling of shyness vanished out of 
sight, and a sense of something very like confiden- 
tial relationship began to take its place, under the 
indescribable charm of the beautiful Eleanor's way. 
" I think an Aladdin's lamp would increase my 
stock a little, or rather put an end to my having 
any stock at all." 

" Oh, no, not that, I hope ; that would be a very 
doubtful kindness," said Eleanor, almost forgetting 
in her turn the lonely girl of the church in her 
admiration for the brave little business woman be- 
fore her ; and then, while Ruthie's eyes were still 
wide open with wondering what she could mean, 
she had turned to the full-blossoming window, and 
begged to look at the geraniums and pinks. 

" Why, where did you get this .?" she exclaimed, 
with a caressing motion of her hand toward one of 
the flowers. " Do you know I have n't a geranium 
like that among all mine, and Briggs has declared 
there was nothing more to be had. It is a perfect 
beauty I" 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 147 

"Then, I wish — " said Ruthie. "I can't be- 
lieve you would really care for it, but I should be 
80 glad if you would take a cutting. They start 
very easily indeed." 

" Oh, thank you," said Eleanor ; " I should like 
it so much. How kind you are to think of it. But 
do n*t cut it this morning, my hands are so full, and 
I shall want an excuse to come again. But I'll 
tell you what else I want : I want you to come up 
and see my garden. You must be a real florist, 
you have such success. You know it is not every 
person that flowers really love, and I want to show 
you mine. Any time — morning, noon, or night. 
Promise, do." 

Ruthie hesitated. Eleanor seemed like a friend ; 
but there were so many other people to be encoun- 
tered if she went. But Eleanor's blue eyes waited 
for an answer with a look that could not be resist- 
ed, and she promised. 

"That's good," said Eleanor; "that is settled; 
and now I really must go, though I should like to 
stay a whole day and watch the mysteries of store- 
keeping. Do you know," and she turned suddenly 
and took Ruthie's brown oval face softly between 
her own soft, white bands — " do you know I envy 
you so ?" 



.' •*■ 



148 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

Ruthie's wonder of a few moments ago was 
eclipsed by her astonishment now ; but the beauti- 
ful face looking so earnestly, almost tenderly into 
hers, could not be mistaken. 

" Why, what can you mean ?" was aU she could 
manage to ask. 

" Just what I say," answered Eleanor, still keep- 
ing her touch on Ruthie's cheeks. " I think it is 
the happiest thing in the world to be useful — to 
feel that you are accomplishing something; but 
my opportunities are almost all out of sight, and it 
takes a good deal of faith sometimes to realize they 
are there at all. But just see what you are doing ! 
And you can see it every day, and that is so de- 
lightful ! Why, just to be such a business woman 
as you are is enough to make any girl proud ; but 
there is n*t one out of a hundred thousand that can 
feel she is working out home and happiness for all 
those she loves best, as you are. Why, I should 
think your heart would be running-over full all the 
time, and you would see light shining out of every 
brown paper parcel you put up," said Eleanor, wind- 
ing up her speech with a little laugh, and brushing 
the golden mist agamst Ruthie's brown braids, as 
she stooped to leave one soft, quick kiss on her 
upturned forehead. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 149 

When the shop-door was shut again, and Elea- 
nor was gone, how empty the room felt, and how 
bare and deserted the boxes and shelves seemed for 
a moment ! Then Ruthie sat down in the chair the 
deacon had left, and put both hands over her face, 
and tried to steady the whirl of thoughts and feel- 
ings her difEerent visitors had stirred, one after the 
other. 

Miss Piper had said the tenderest Heart of all 
was certainly near, stretching out its arms for her 
to rest; Deacon Gosberry had told her she was 
highly favored, and that Heaven did not give such 
opportunities to every girl ; and now here was Miss 
Gray, the beautiful, lovely Miss Gray, telling her 
the very same thing again. 

Why, she had thought Miss Gray stood on a 
pinnacle of everything life could give or heart 
could wish, and had felt sure she must look down 
upon her as a poor penniless little working woman ; 
but Eleanor had looked in her face only one happy 
moment ago as if she really loved her, and said she 
envied her, and she had reason to be proud. And 
she could feel her kiss and the touch of her beauti- 
ful hands still ! 

Oh, surely they must be right, and surely the 
LrOrd did love her a little if he had given her all this I 



I JO J^UTHIETS VENTURE. 

And what he did not give every one by any means, 
they all thought ! Could that be, in any way, with 
the thought of making up for other things he did 
not see it well to give ? And three such friends as 
had been sent to her that dreary morning when she 
had thought comfort could never come again ! Was 
there any one else who had such friends, any one 
else to whom all these were so loving and kind.^ 
Oh, she would try to believe ; she would try to 
" rest and take her comfort !" and Ruthie stretched 
out her hands and opened her heart with a little cry 
towards the Friend she could not see, and then got 
up and went to her mother's room, with her heart 
cheered and brightened and made strong by the 
loving sympathy of those she had been talking with 
face to face. 

Yes, little Ruthie, stretch out your hands and 
feel after Him, even though it be with a trembling 
touch ; some day you shall find Him, and wonder 
that you ever thought a friend met your wants be- 
fore, or that you ever knew what rest and warmth 
and gladness really were. 



RVTHIE'S VENTURE. 151 



CHAPTER XV. 

The rain that had spattered so mercilessly 
through Deacon Gosberry's gauzy unbrella was com- 
paratively trifling in the city, and no one thought 
of deferring business, and scarcely of giving up 
pleasure for its sake. 

Judge Larcom sat in his inner office busily ma- 
king ready for a case in court, when a step was 
heard in the outer room, and the Judge's spectacles 
peered round the doorway between the two. A 
huge pair of shoulders and a gray line of beard 
round a homely benevolent face came in view, and 
the Judge exclaimed : 

" Good-morning, Mr. Mudge ! Happy to see 
you ; walk in this way, please." 

" Ah !" said Mr. Mudge, and availing himself of 
the invitation, he took the vacant arm-chair stand- 
ing beside the Judge's desk and quite concealed 
behind the door. " I 'm afraid you 're not at leisure 
this morning ; but I shall need to detain you for 
only a few moments," 

'' I am always at leisure for business/' said the 



152 RUTHIKS VENTURE. 

Judge, and Mr. Mudge went on to lay some per 
plexing claims before him and ask advice. 

" I do n't want to take anything that does not 
fairly belong to me," said Mr. Mudge, " and I do n't 
want to press any man that is hard pushed already ; 
and if there's been any mistake honestly made, I 'r;i 
willing to bear my share of the loss at least." 

The Judge laughed. " Why your case is as clear 
as daylight," he said ; " there is n't a knot to untwist 
in it. The dues are all on your side ; but I do n't 
wonder you have to look out for them, if Griswold's 
is the other finger in the pie." 

" Ah !" said Mr. Mudge ; " I feel sure there has 
been a misunderstanding on Mr. Griswold's part, 
somehow or other." 

" Humph !" said the Judge ; " none so blind as 
those who wont see. This was going to make a 
very pretty thing for him if he could have fixed it 
his own way; and I can easily believe he'd scru- 
ple at neither ways nor means to do so. I always 
believed he knew what he was about when he helped 
that worthless mining stock into the market. An 
abominable thing, too ; a man would be cashiered 
for such a piece of work as that if he had his dues." 

"Ah!" said Mr. Mudge, putting the tips of his 
fingers together, and leaning back in his chair, *'I 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 153 

believe there was no doubt he invested pretty heav- 
ily in it himself." 

The Judge snapped his fingers. " Oh, I know 
there are ways of putting a very fine face on these 
things/* he said, " I never liked the man, though I 
hardly know why ; but I '11 tell you one thing I do 
know. I have seen him more than once coming 
down a stairway where I knew there was a gam- 
bling room two flights up. What he had to do up 
there, of course I can't say." 

Mr. Mudge fidgeted so uncomfortably in his 
chair, and said " Ah !" in such a miserable tone, 
that the Judge looked up with a little start. 

'* I beg your pardon," he said ; " I hope Gris- 
wold is not related to you outside of business ?" 

" I believe he is," said Mr. Mudge ; " I have 
always considered him so, but no nearer, I suppose, 
than he is to you." 

" To me !" echoed the Judge ; "the man's noth- 
ing to me ! What are you thinking of ?" 

" Ah," said Mr. Mudge, " I thought we all claimed 
the same Father and the same Elder Brother, that 
is all." 

The Judge did not start this time, but sat look- 
ing fixedly in Mr. Mudge's face, while a tinge of 
red crept up into his own invariably pale cheeks* 



154 RUTHIE^S VENTURE, 

and Mr. Mudge had nothing left but to go on. ** It 
is always rather painful to me to hear evil of a 
brother," he said. "I don't like to believe it as 
long as there is any hope; and if worst comes to 
worst, I 'd rather treat it as a family secret as long 
as I can. Of course, in justice to other people, 
the truth should be told sometimes, but it *s painful, 
very ;" and Mr. Mudge leaned forward and opened 
the finger tips again, as he returned the Judge's 
gaze with a look half mournful, half apologetic, but 
which vanished in another moment to make way 
for the kindly beaming that could not disappear for 
long under any circumstances. 

" You are quite right, quite right — an excellent 
lesson," said the Judge, rising hastily and taking 
his hat ; " and now, if you will do me the favor to 
keep guard over the treasures in this den of mine 
a few moments, I should like to bring in an author- 
ity that was borrowed from my library a few days 
ago, and show you where it touches your case pre- 
cisely. I wont be gone ten minutes ;" and without 
waiting for an answer, he disappeared and closed 
the outer door behind him. 

Mr. Mudge settled himself back in his chair, 
with his finger-tips together, but had scarcely been 
alone a moment when the door opened, and two 



RUTHIRS VENTURE. 155 

young men came in, one of them flinging himself 
leisurely into a vacant chair, while the other tramped 
back and forth across the room with an excited 
tread. 

" I tell you I can't raise it," said Tom Larcom's 
voice, speaking rapidly. " If you think I have my 
pockets full of money because my father's are, you 
are mistaken. I shall be my own man in six months 
more, and you '11 have to wait till then." 

" Most happy to do so," returned Thornton, in 
tones as cool as Tom's were excited, "if I could 
make it convenient, but I 'm sorry to say I happen 
to want the money just at present, and have no 
such fine prospects ahead as yours, either." 

" But I told you in the outset I could n't a£Ford 
all that nonsense down at your club, and I told you 
the truth," said Tom, with another rapid turn in his 
walk. 

" Oh, a gentleman can always afford to pay his 
debts of honor," answered Thornton. 

"I tell you I can't," said Tom; "I can't raise 
seven hundred dollars any more than I can seven 
thousand. What did you ever take me down there 
for ? What did you ever persuade me to play for, 
after I had told you, to begin with, I wanted notb* 
ing to do with it ?" 



156 RUTH IE' S VENTURE. 

Thornton laughed. " Oh, looking on does very 
well for a while," he said, in the same cool tones, 
" but it 's quite natural you liked trying for yourself 
at last. I'm sorry to trouble you, but you'll re- 
member I leave for the country to-morrow, and if 
you could let me have the seven hundred this even- 
ing it would be very convenient. That will give 
you time to catch the Judge in the right humor 
for it." 

Tom turned fiercely upon him. " And tell him 
I want it to make up an evening or two at billiards 
with a friend ! You know that would ruin me as 
well as I do ! You came in here in an evil hour, 
when the worst was uppermost with me ; and you 
hinted and guessed until you made up your mind 
that friendship and friendly words were the things 
I wanted most, the only things I really wanted in 
life ; and you fooled me with your smooth tongue 
till I believed you were what I had been starving 
for ever since I knew I could starve, and that is 
from the time I was bom, it seems to me. And 
now look at your friendship and see what it looks 
like, if you dare. Friendship ! I don't believe there 
is such a thing as a real friend in the world !" 

Thornton laughed his smooth, mocking laugh 
again. "Don't get excited," he said. "Nothing 



RUTH IBS VENTURE. 157 

would give me greater pleasure than to have a 
dozen more friendly games with you before I leave ; 
but you'll have to make yourself a little more 
familiar with ways and means of settling accounts 
before you 're ready for that." 

"And I tell you you'll have to wait before you 
get this first and last one settled," said Tom. " Put- 
ting my hand in a lion's mouth would be child's 
play compared to going to my father for this 
money." 

Thornton gave a low whistle. "A lion's mouth 
is rather a hard way of escape," he said. " Better 
look about for something easier. I should think 
you must know his signature pretty well by this 
time." 

"What do you mean?" asked Tom, turning 
upon him. 

"Mean?" repeated the same cool tones. "I 
mean if there were a check-book lying about here 
somewhere, and you were to fill up some blank for 
the seven hundred, and draw it quietly, it would 
save you the trouble of mentioning the matter to 
him ; and when you find yourself flush, six months 
hence, you could just return the amount, and every- 
thing would be settled handsomely all round. Any 
way, however, that suits you best/' he added, rising 



I5S RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

quietly, as Tom fairly glared at him ; " it 's quite 
the same thing to me, provided I see you to-night ;" 
and he left the room coolly before Tom had found 
bis voice. 

Tom took two or three heavy tramps across the 
floor, like a wild animal in a cage, when he was 
gone. 

"It's of no use," he said fiercely, between close 
white lips. "Ten kind words the day Thornton 
first called for me would have kept me peacefully 
digging over these law-books to this hour ; and ten 
times ten, spoken anywhere in my life, as if there 
was one living soul that loved me with all his heart, 
would have made me all the man my father could 
have asked for. But I am ruined now ! And who 
will ever care T 

The vision of the old elm-tree and the brown- 
eyed maiden he had left under its shelter so long 
ago rose again, fresh as it always was ; but it seemed 
only to goad him to greater desperation, and he 
stopped suddenly before the open desk. 

A slip of paper lay on its open lid. He drew it 
toward him, and taking up a pen, wrote a name 
carefully two or three times. Then he snatched 
the paper, tore it to atoms, and ground it under his 
heel 



KbTHIBS VENTURE. 1 59 

" Never !" he exclaimed. " If no one cares, if 
there 's no such thing as a friend in the world, and 
if I Ve been fool enough to believe there was, I *ll 
never be a blackguard into the bargain. If I 've 
disgraced myself already, I'll stand and take the 
consequences, but no one shall ever say I went far- 
ther than disgrace." 

A sound, a step behind him, made him start 
and turn to the inner office door ; then he stood 
white and speechless as the huge shoulders and 
towering form of Mr. Mudge emerged and came 
hurriedly toward him. 

" Larcom," he said, laying a broad hand on 
Tom's motionless shoulder, " you had better come 
into my store. My bookkeeper wants an assistant, 
and the salary is fifteen hundred. I will make the 
first half payable in advance, and if you find you 
like business, we will save a little vacancy for you 
before loi.g. Do n't say a word about it here. I '11 
undertake all the arrangements if you agree." 



i6o RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

For a lew days after Eleanor's visit to the new 
store, Ruthie went about with so bright a face and 
so ready a smile that Miss Piper gave thanks in the 
secret of her loving little soul and had no need to 
wake up with a comforting text in her behalf. But 
still the little dressmaker had her reflections about 
young people needing something for the body as 
well as for the soul, and she appeared at the store 
bright and early one dewy morning with a proposal 
all her own. 

" Did you ever know such a remarkable thing ?" 
she said. '' I was thinking only last night you 
were shut up here a great deal too close, and I 
wished I could catch time to slip down and send 
you out for a walk ; and this morning th^ customer 
I had the first hours engaged to, came in to say 
she 'd like to be put off, and here I am, free as a 
bird for a little while. It's a perfectly delicious 
air, and I do n't believe there '11 be a soul in so ear- 
ly ; and if they do, I can put my hand on anything 
in the shop just as quickly as you can. So now if 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. i6i 

you'd just go out for a little run, dear! It's only 
twenty minutes to nine, and if you be back by 
about five before ten, that will be just an hour 
and a quarter, and I could stay just as well as 
not. And there 's nothing like morning air to keep 
the complexion fresh, and the digestion good ; 
nothing in the world." 

Ruthie hesitated. She had never left the store 
before with any one but Hans, and scarcely then 
except to answer the summons of her mother's bell, 
which had its days of being almost perpetual. 

But however Miss Piper had guessed it, «he 
really had begun to have a smothered sort of feel- 
ing these last bright days ! She was so used to 
flitting about in the free air, and Mr. Mudge's 
words, *' Are you sure you can bear being shut up 
srx or eight hours a day V came echoing into her 
ear, from she did not know where, now and then. 
And then there was her promise to Miss Gray that 
.he half longed and half trembled to fulfil! And 
cjc geranium cutting ! She might make an errand 
of that, and perhaps she might find Miss Gray by 
herself just now. 

" You dear little Miss Piper !" she said, with a 
bright smile, " how lovely you are to think of it I 
But how droll to think of your keeping store ! I 



l6a RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

shall have to come back and buy something of you, 
jfbst to see how you behave." 

" Well, come," said Miss Piper ; " but do n't let 
it be sooner than five minutes before ten. It wont 
be worth anything at all if you do ;" and before 
she had time to realize her new dignities, Ruthie 
had turned on the doorstep to throw back another 
good-by, and was tripping away over the green 
sward, with what Miss Piper called "a real girl 
look" on her face, and the geranium cutting dainti- 
ly folded in a bit of white paper, in her hand. 

" Only I do hope," said the little dressmaker, a 
sense of her new situation coming rather appallingly 
over her, as she watched Ruthie down the street, 
" I do hope Deacon Gosberry wont come in with 
any errands for his wife !*' 

How delicious the morning air and the sense of 
freedom seemed to the little storekeeper as she 
sped away, leaving cares and business for once be- 
hind her ! Everything had gone smoothly that day, 
as far as home matters were concerned ; and it did 
seem as if clouds had almost vanished away before 
clear sunshine as she flitted along, feeling a breath 
of the freshness that lay everywhere around her 
stealing into her very self, while she went joyfully 
over some of the happy thoughts that had made 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 163 

brown paper parcels seem, as Eleanor said, " almost 
shining," the last few days. 

" Why, I do believe I feel almost young again f 
she said to herself with a little laugh. •* I thought I 
was getting to be an old woman for evermore. Ho^ 
strange it would be if I should ever feel my heart 
really light again ! But that could not be, of course, 
without dear papa." 

If not " really" it was at least almost, as the 
exhilaration of the morning roused her young life 
more and more, and she went gayly on, spite of having 
to pass the window where the drawn shade still 
hung as if trying to shut her out. She would not 
look at it, but hurried along, determined to make 
the most of her hour and a quarter, and running 
lightly on with the bright thoughts that, strangers 
as they were of late, made all the more cheerful 
company. 

"I wonder if papa knows, I wonder if he can 
really see, how well I am getting on, and how kind 
every one is !" she thought, the color coming to her 
cheek as it had almost forgotten how to do for a 
while. " He must be so glad if he can ! And I 
hope he will see better and better things as time 
goes on ! Who knows but I shall be able to buy of 
Mr. Mudge as any one else does, some day before 



t6i RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

a great while, if I am very saving ! How proud and 
independent I should feel ! I hope I sha' n't get 
spoiled with all that is coming to me. Who would 
ever have thought of my having Miss Eleanor 
Gray for a friend ! And I really do feel as if I had 
known her quite a long time, and as if she really 
cared for me. I can't think what ever made her 
think of a poor lonely little shopkeeper like me, but 
I suppose it was her own beautiful soul, that must 
go out to every one. 

" Oh, how lovely it is when you feel any one's 
soul go out to you ! It must be the way it is in 
heaven, I 'm sure ; such a strange kind of happi- 
ness. But it needn't be strange, if every one 
would only do it. And oh, why can't they.^ It 
certainly does n't leave them any poorer, for I nev- 
er saw any one seem so rich and so beautiful as 
Miss Gray did when her eyes were looking at me 
so that day, as if they were pouring something 
right out of her heart into mine !" 

What was it that made Ruthie's thoughts flash, 
by way of contrast, back to the window-shade 
Aunt Sally had pulled down, and the two rocking- 
chairs she knew so well stationed close behind it ? 

Whatever it was, there was time but for a flash 
home again to the road lying before her, and there, 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 165 

suddenly appearing round a shady turn, was the* 
stately figure of Miss Sally Dusenbury, stalking 
straight toward her, with Miss Penelope's cape-bon- 
net, as usual, close beside her shoulder. 

" O dear," thought Ruthie, with a quick gasp in 
ner throat, and a merciless little thump at her heart, 
" where can they ever have been so early in the 
morning ? What can I do ? What shall I say to 
them ? If I could only persuade them that I had 
not been so very bad after all, and if I could only 
get them once to come and look at the store ! It 
is so dreadful to quarrel, and they might be such a 
comfort 10 mamma. I guess I had better speak 
brightly and cheerfully, as if nothing was the mat- 
ter, if my throat will only let me, and then see what 
I am to do next. I have n't dared go near the house, 
but this may be the very chance. Oh, what a bur- 
den it would take off !" and our brave little Ruthie 
walked steadily on to face the cannon, and try what 
she could do toward dismounting the same. 

Did the Miss Dusenburys see her } Yes, now, 
certainly, for Aunt Sally's sharp nose was pointed 
directly at her, and Aunt Penelope's sun-bonnet 
had given a sudden bob of surprise. Courage now. 
Ten steps more and all may be set right ! 

Not yet, forgiving little soul ! With a wooden 



1 66 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

face that saw as if it did not see, and a turn as 
sharp as a grenadier's, Miss Sally had wheeled, and 
was stalking in stiff majesty across the road ; Miss 
Penelope's cape-bonnet had hesitated, lingered an 
instant, and followed; and the dreaded ten steps 
brought Ruthie to a spot in the greensward where 
not even a Dusenbury footprint remained to be 
seen, and silence and space were all she had to 
fight or to entreat. 

O Miss Sally, did you know what you were 
taking with you, and what you were leaving behind, 
as you took those few steps across to the other side, 
and marched magnificently and at the risk of your 
new shoes along the stony border, where no one 
was expected to walk ? 

The gladness and the youth, the light heart and 
the light step, had all fled from poor Ruthie once 
more ; the morning had vanished away, and shad- 
ows and clouds turned everything into night again, 
and Ruthie stood still, hesitating, as if from a sud- 
den blow. 

"Oh, how could they," she exclaimed at last, 
" how could they be so cruel ! I can bear anything 
if people only would not be unkind, but I can't bear 
that I told Miss Piper I could n't And it means 
they never will be friends again, of course. Oh, 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. x(i^ 

what have I done that is so very bad ? Is it really 
such a dreadful thing to keep a store ? I suppose 
it must be, and people who talk as if it were not are 
too kind to tell the truth ; but what else can I do ?" 

The light-hearted girl of a few moments ago 
stood old woman, storekeeper, and orphan all to- 
gether again for a moment more, and then turned 
slowly to retrace her steps. 

" I '11 not go and see Miss Gray," she said, " I Ve 
no heart. And besides, it could n't have been any- 
thing but kindness that made her ask me ; how could 
I ever have thought it was } I '11 go back and keep 
that terrible store, since I must. What is the use 
of trying to do anything else t What is the use of 
trying to be a Christian even, if it would make me 
no kinder than Aunt Penelope is ? And how do I 
know, after all, but the Lord would turn away from 
me just as she does } Has she not had time enough 
to learn what he is like T 

Ruthie walked on a few steps, and then sudden- 
ly stopped again. 

" No, I *11 not be so cowardly and mean," she 
said. " I could n't go back and break poor little 
Miss Piper's heart again, and I will go and see Miss 
Gray. She must know as well about the store as 
Aunt Sally does, and she must be like the Lord 



/68 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

more than Aunt Penelope is, and I '11 go ; but I 'ni 
afraid Miss Piper's five minutes to ten will come 
before I know it." 

Ruthie sped on, though the "girl look" Miss 
Piper had watched so jubilantly out of sight had 
fled away, and it was rather a weary one, settling 
into careworn lines, that met Miss Gray's housemaid 
as she opened the door at Ruthie's ring. 

Miss Gray's housemaid wore a very doubtful 
expression on her own face as she stood for an in- 
stant with the door in her hand, for she had receiv- 
ed most explicit directions that "the young Miss 
Dusenbury who kept the store" was to be admitted 
any time when she might call, and was to be shown 
to Miss Gray's own room if she happened to be 
there ; and at the same time she knew that her mis- 
tress was at that moment very particularly engaged, 
and had just sent a message to Mr. Percival, who 
was at the door with two impatient saddle-horses, 
begging him to wait for her half an hour. 

However, general orders must cover special 
ones sometimes, and so the housemaid settled the 
question in her own mind. 

"Will you walk up stairs.^" she said. "Miss 
Gray is in her own room;" and Ruthie followed, 
meeting, to her great relief, neither sight nor sound 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 169 

of any other guest on the way. The maid opened 
the door, and for an instant Ruthie's vision was so 
dazzled that she hardly saw any one object clearly 
except that Eleanor was there. 

She had never entered a boudoir y but the ser- 
vant had said this was Miss Gray*s own room, and 
it surely could be no bedchamber, with its pictures' 
its statuettes, its blue draperies edged with quilling 
of the most delicate muslin at the window, its vases 
of flowers, its perfumed air, and its luxurious furni- 
ture, such as Ruthie had never even dreamed of. 

But whatever it was, Eleanor herself was cer- 
tainly there, standing close beside an inlaid table, 
and stooping over a gilt canary cage placed 
upon it. 

She turned at the sound of the door, and when 
she saw Ruthie, came quickly toward her with out- 
stretched hands. 

" Oh, I am so glad you have come. I have been 
watching for you ever since you promised," she 
said, with the same smile Ruthie had thought illu- 
mined everything a few days before. "And you 
have brought the cutting too !" as she saw it peep- 
ing from the paper in which it was pinned. " How 
thoughtful and kind it was of you !" 

" It gave me an errand," said Ruthie, a smile of 



170 RUTH IE' S VENTURE. 

her own breaking the sharp lines that had been 
trying to settle on her face. 

Eleanor laughed a little, but did net say that 
was the very reason she left it the other day. 

" But I am in trouble this morning," she said. 
"I wonder if you can possibly help me;" and she 
took Ruthie's hand and drew her to the table she 
had left. 

"My poor, poor little bird !" she said; "perhaps 
you never had one, and you can't think how tender 
your heart might get to be to such a wee, wee 
thing ;* but he is so like a bit of the very morning 
itself all day long, and lilts and tilts away with his 
song as if he would pour his little heart fairly out 
for me every time I come into the room. And I 
give him every seed and every drop of water he 
has, and hardly ever come up without a leaf or a 
flower for him, just for the delight of making him 
glad ; but, poor little fellow, he does n't look as if 
he would ever be glad again !" 

" Why what can have happened to him ?" asked 
Ruthie, as she saw the little thing huddled like a 
golden pujBf-ball at one end of his farthest perch, 
and blood trickling from his feathers where he had 
hidden one little foot out of sight. 

"Oh, I don't know!" said Eleanor, "he must 



RUTH IE' S VENTURE. 171 

have caught his foot somewhere and somehow ; I 
think in the little cut where the wire slips into the 
perch, and mangled the poor claw, so that Briggs 
said it must be cut, and I had to do it. It seemed 
as if I never could, but I had to ! He flutters and 
throbs his little life almost to bursting, even in my 
hand, and I dared not let any one else touch him. I 
had to cut the torn little bit of his foot, and I know 
it hurt him terribly, and now see how it bleeds ; and 
I can't do anything to help it, that I can see !*' 

Ruthie hesitated. " Perhaps," she said, "if you 
could take him in your hand once more, I might be 
able to get a little bit of linty thread fastened so 
that it would stop the bleeding, at least." 

" Do you really think so .?" asked Eleanor. " Sa- 
rah said she would n't touch it for the world, and 
I had no one else, as Mrs. Daucy can't bear seeing 
any such thing. I dread to touch him, it terrifies 
him so, but I must help him if I can." 

" There, Ruthie, be quick as you possibly can !" 
she exclaimed, as the golden feathers, held close to 
the trembling little frame now, lay once more in 
her hand, almost as soft as themselves. " If you 
could only feel his tiny heart beat ! It seems as if 
it would burst, and all with terror of me who have 
always loved him so I" 



172 RUTHIE'S VENTURE 

Ruthie's slender fingers had almost more than 
their match for once, in the delicate surgery they 
had undertaken ; but with a few dainty and skilful 
touches, and after one or two slips and mistakes, 
the work was done, and a drop of oil was added at 
Ruthie's suggestion, with hope of soothing the 
fevered foot. 

" I do believe it is stanched," said Eleanor, as 
they watched the terrified little sufferer a moment 
after replacing him on his perch. " Oh, I am so 
glad ! you can't think what the pleasure is when I 
feel I am filling his little life up with joy; but it 
doesn't compare to this dreadful feeling that I 
can't help him when he is in pain." 

" But what is he doing T exclaimed Ruthie, and 
to their dismay they saw her work undone, and the 
bright drops oozing out afresh, as the beak and 
the well foot worked together to tear her " linty 
threads " away. 

" It is of no use," said Eleanor, " he will not let 
us do anything for him ! And see how he draws 
just as far as he possibly can away from me, and 
bears his pain all alone; and I can't make him 
understand how I am grieving for him, and how 
I am longing to gather him right up to my heart, 
and let him rest there till the pain is gone. I can 



RUTH IE' S VENTURE. 173 

bear to lose him if I must, but it is so hard to see 
such a tiny, helpless thing suffer all alone, and 
never understand how my heart broods over him 
at the very time !" 

Something in Eleanor's words seemed a sudden 
echo of the very things Miss Piper had said so 
patiently over and over to her about a Heart whose 
pity she would not see, longing to gather her up to 
rest ; and she looked suddenly into Eleanor's face. 
It was still bending over the tiny cage, her breast 
swelling and her eyes dimmed with moisture as 
she fixed them on her little pet, with the yearning 
tenderness her words could not half convey. " It 
is of no use," she repeated sorrowfully ; " but oh, I 
do wish he could only understand !" 

"But / understand!" thought Ruthie, as she 
stood silently looking back into Eleanor's blue eyes. 
" Oh, I see it all now ! How could I ever have 
thought it could not be, all those beautiful things 
Miss Piper said ! How could I ever have thought 
He did not care, because he could have helped it !" 
and this time, not Ruthie's hands, but her whole 
tired, hungering, thirsty and bleeding heart went 
out to the unseen Love that seemed unseen no 
longer, and peace, rest and gladness came trooping 
in at once. 



174 RUTH IE' S VENTURE, 

" I 'm afraid he 11 never sing again," said Elea- 
nor, mournfully. 

" He will if you only look at him, dear Miss 
Gray. Any one would sing if you gave them such 
a look as that," said Rdthie, feeling half guilty at 
the flood of joy that seemed pouring in upon her, 
while Eleanor's trouble was not yet over past. 

" Dear yes, he will," said the maid coming in. 
" I have seen a bird^ a great deal worse than that, 
that came out as bright and clear in a few days as 
if nothing at all had ever happened. And I really 
do believe his foot is n't bleeding quite as much, 
after all." 

The maid was right, and by the time Mr. Per- 
cival's half hour was, as Miss Piper would have 
said, within three minutes of being out, the tired 
bird, the wounded foot still hidden among his 
feathers, had tucked his head under his wing, and 
Eleanor's face was ready to smile again. 

" How very kind you have been," she said to 
Ruthie, as she hurriedly took her riding habit from 
the maid. " And now you must come again very 
soon, and really see the flowers the next time; 
and I shall keep the cutting to remember this 
visit by. It has been such a help to have you 
come in." 



RUTH IE' S VENTURE, 175 

"I think I have something planted already to 
remember it by," said Ruthie, as she hurried away 
and sped toward home without a thought or care 
of window-shades, loneliness, or Dusenbury fame. 

"O Miss Piper," she said, throwing her arms 
round the little dressmaker's neck, after she had 
poured out the story of the morning, with all she 
could tell of the new light and joy she had brought 
shining home; "I have been just like that poor 
little fellow with his bleeding foot, bearing my pain 
all alone, and pulling off the bandages you tried to 
put on for me, the very minute you had got them 
fastened! But I shall not do it any more; you 
need not fear." 

Miss Piper was trying so hard not to cry, that 
she could not answer a word, and Ruthie looked up 
again with a half mischievous gleam in her eyes: 
" Only I do think," she said, " Aunt Penelope 
helped a little to pull off one now and then." 

"There, there," said the little dressmaker," Aunt 
Penelope has such an unfortunate way of following^ 
Miss Sally; that is all, dear: and it is the blind 
leading the blind, pretty often, I am sure. But 
she will see, dear, some day, and don't you mind or 
worry about it the least bit in the meantime." 



«*■ 



t76 RUTH IE' S VENTURE, 



CHAPTER XVII. 

The swift weeks of the ensuing months fleeting 
past seemed to Ruthie an even flow, marked only 
by an increase of customers, lightened every now 
and then by a joyful visit from Eleanor or Miss 
Piper, and filled with a steady up-welling peace that 
not a ripple seemed ever to disturb. 

The light that had crept in at last upon her 
lonely little heart, seemed a steady shining before 
which all clouds vanished away, and every day 
seemed one low sweet song of comfort, rest, and 
joy. 

"Oh, how could I ever have thought I was 
alone !*' she said. " How could I ever have thought 
there was not love enough and to spare! And 
Miss Gray says I am doing papa's work for him, 
and letting him rest a little while. I don't know 
as I ought to think quite that ; but I 'm sure he is 
happy, and will be all the more glad the happier 
he sees I have learned to be. Oh, I wonder if he 
knows how kind she is to me, and all that she and 
dear little Miss Piper and Mr. Mudge have done 
for me, and how I learned to believe in the dear 



RUTH IE' S VENTURE. 177 

Lord at last, because I knew they must be like 
him ! Oh, and dear, good Deacon Gosberry too; I 
must n't forget him," she added with a little laugh. 

Eleanor took care that the influx of gay visitors 
whom her father's and Mrs. Ashburton's recommen- 
dations began to bring in larger and larger flocks 
to the rather startled shades of Glenbury, should 
lose no time in hearing of the romance of the new 
store under the elm ; and between interest, curios- 
ity, and the desire to follow Eleanor's lead, Ruthie 
found them coming so often that she had to rack 
her brain for additions to the "small wares" Mr. 
Mudge had heretofore sent out 

Miss Piper kept watch of it all, and determining 
Ruthie should not lose girlhood altogether out of 
her life, got it established as a pretty regular thing 
that she mounted guard herself from fifteen minutes 
of nine, as she would have said, to thirty minutes 
past, every day ; and if any visitor chanced to stray 
in before that time, and waited long enough, she 
was sure to go away declaring that the rosiest 
cheeks and the brightest brown eyes she ever saw 
in her life came sparkling in just before she left, 
and slipped like a picture between the counter and 
the high carved wainscoting, white as Hans' paint- 
pots could make it, around the four sides of the store; 

a2 



178 RUTHirS VENTURE. 

But as one swallow does not make a summer, so 
one summer does not make a year; and it seemed 
to Ruthie only a few short, bright days had passed, 
when the ground seemed suddenly to open under 
her feet as Eleanor outlingered a whole half dozen 
customers one morning to say, " Ruthie dear, I shall 
miss you more than all the rest of Glenbury when 
I have to say good-by. Do you know we shall be 
ready to go next week ?" 

" Ready to go next week !" echoed Ruthie, dis- 
may struggling with a determination that she had 
not heard aright. " Not really you ? Not far !" 

" Really all of us, little Ruthie," said Eleanor ; 
" and as far as a trip down the St. Lawrence, and 
a few days at the Springs, before we go back to the 
city — ^just to be respectable, you know," she added, 
laughing. "By next year I expect it will be so 
much the thing to come to Glenbury, that no apol- 
ogy or explanation will be needed. But do n't look 
quite so dismayed ; the winter is only a little longer 
than the summer — shorter almost, I believe, in the 
city, and then another summer comes again." 

"Oh, but it will not be shorter to me!" cried 
Ruthie. " How can I stay in the store a whole 
long winter without even seeing you once come in !* 

" Oh, but you will be so full of work," said Elea- 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 179 

nor, " proud and happy work, that gives time golden 
wings. It seems to me I should not be willing a 
day should hurry by, if I were as useful as you." 

Ruthie's face grew perplexed, and a half-grieved 
look settled on it. " It is always so easy to say, 
* If I were you,* " she said. " I am a little useful, I 
know, and I am as happy and grateful as a queen 
about it too ; but I do get tired sometimes, and I 
know it is only a little bit of a kingdom where I 
reign — two or three very plain people that nobody 
cares for but myself. But you are so rich and so 
beautiful, and the whole world knows you and wants 
to get a look from you, and you make every one so 
happy that comes near." 

" Why, Ruthie !" said Eleanor, laughing, and a 
quick color coming up into her cheeks; and then, 
as she caught Ruthie's eyes full of earnest tears, 
she stooped quickly and kissed her on the fore- 
head — the second time she had ever done so. 

'• You are a sweet child," she said ; "but do you 
know there are so many rich and beautiful p)eople 
in my world, that they do n't get one such admi- 
ring look as yours apiece in the course of a whole 
season ? I do long to make life amount to some- 
thing, Ruthie, and Miss Piper persuaded me that 
perhaps I might, one bright day when I wj^s talking 



i8o RUTH IE' S VENTURE. 

with her; but now and then I lose sight of what 
she said for a little while, and can hardly believe I 
am anything but a butterfly flitting from one flower 
to another, taking more honey than I leave, as I 
go, a good deal. I should like to be of use to some- 
body, if I could ;" and Eleanor Gray, the rich, the 
fair, the courted, and the envied of all her circle, 
laid her jewelled hand on little storekeeper Ruthie's 
with an entreating, almost pleading look. 

** O Miss Eleanor," said Ruthie, her brown eyes 
shining like stars, "can*t you see — have n't you seen 
all this time } Just to love you and have your friend- 
ship would have made light by itself when my heart 
was so dark I thought I could never see anything 
but night around me ; but I don't believe I should 
ever have understood how God loves me — I don't 
believe I should really have found him, or learned 
to trust him all this while, if it had not been for 
you. You always do people good, you can't help it, 
if you only look at them out of your beautiful eyes 
as you have at me. And I was so lonely, and I 
wanted help so much !" 

" Why, Ruthie, what do you mean ?" asked Elea- 
nor, her "beautiful eyes" full of surprise and won- 
der now. 

Ruthie told her as well as sbQ could ; and £le^« 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. i8l 

nor, who had wondered as she walked toward the 
Dusenbury elm that morning whether wealth and 
all it could bring gave as little real satisfaction to 
every one as to her, walked home feeling that she 
was rich and happy, and to be envied indeed. 

" You dear little Piper," she was saying to her- 
self, "you were quite right. Loving everybody and 
everything, ' keeping my heart full to the brim,' as 
you call it, is such easy work I have hardly dared 
believe it was work at all ; but I shall always feel, 
after this, as if some thirsty souls may catch from 
me a drop now and then of the water Christ gives, 
that may send them on their way a little gladder 
and stronger, even if I do not understand exactly 
when or how." 

Glenbury's gay visitors had been rapidly disap. 
pearing for some time past, and Mr. Percival was 
almost the only one remaining to the Ashbur- 
tons and Grays. The place had seemed to possess 
surprising charms for him, and since the day he and 
his terrible umbrella had so nearly made wreck of 
Miss Ashburton's phaeton and its occupants, al- 
though he had made various sketching excursions 
in one direction or another, he had been sure to 
reappear, and claim the little village headquarters 
%gain. 



iS2 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

"Which is it, Percival, the heiress, the artist, 
or the Good Samaritan ?" asked Mr. Fred McDowell 
at last. "You certainly must be taking in-door 
sketches somewhere ; for though Glenbury is a 
pretty place enough, nothing but some special in- 
terest could have kept me alive if I had stayed by 
as steadily as you have this summer. I can't think 
of any way you can finish up handsomely, but by 
taking a studio in the same building with Miss 
Grace when you get round to the city again." 

"Just what I am intending to do, if possible,** 
replied Mr. Percival quietly, stepping back from his 
easel for a look at the sketch he was finishing. 

In another week Eleanor's last good-by had been 
said, the houses of Mrs. Ashburton and Mr. Gray 
were closed, the families that had opened their doors 
to boarders after much persuasion "to accommo- 
date," were left to the enjoyment of private life 
once more, and the last visitor had turned his face 
toward city walls and pavements, just as the coun- 
try was preparing to put on its most glorious gar- 
ments, and spread a palette of crimson, garnet, and 
gold, that any artist's eye might be ravished to rest 
upon for a single hour. 

It was a hard wrench for Ruthie to watch the 
Ashburton carriage down the road and fairly out of 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. (83 

sight at last ; but when a fountain is well supplied 
from a hidden spring, cutting off one stream or an- 
other cannot quite bring drought ; and Miss Pipei 
never made one of her excuses to "just slip in and 
see if the child was all right," that she did not find 
clear shining in the little store, from the window 
full of flowers, up to the customers, Hans, and the 
brown eyes of the mistress over all. 

•* Only you never can know what a comfort you 
are, you dear Miss Piper," Ruthie said ; and so 
spite of the brilliant veil autumn threw over the 
truth, they drifted steadily on toward winter days 
when Deacon Gosberry's high-hipped horse would 
find it hard to drag his yellow ark of a sleigh through 
the drifted woods ; when days would grow short, 
customers few, and Glenbury life a good deal like 
that of the beasts gone to sleep in their caves. 

Only once, while the bright woods were at their 
gayest, Ruthie took holiday and went in to settle 
her accounts with the gray lion behind the office 
railing of Mudge & Co. 

" Ah !" he exclaimed as he emerged beaming 
from behind his bars, " glad to see you, Miss Du- 
senbury ; very glad ! You are as punctual a busi- 
ness acquaintance as I have, and as successful a 
one into the bargain* And I hear that Glenbury 



184 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

of yours is coming quite into notice, will be a fash- 
ionable resort by next summer in fact. You will 
be making your fortune, and cutting clear of any 
connections that do n't please you, before we know 
it, I must take care, I must take care," and the 
big homely mouth expanded into the smile Ruthie 
remembered so well. 

"My assistant book-keeper is from Glenbury 
too, by a strange coincidence ; and a fine fellow he 
is ; I think very well of him," went on Mr. Mudge. 
"And by the way he is the very one to take these 
papers in charge. Herrick," he said, beckoning to 
a clerk who stood near, " just ask Mr. Larcom to 
step this way a few moments." 



RUTHIE^S VENTURE. 185 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

By the time the first light snow had fallen 
like a coverlet for the dreamy nap Glenbury was 
settling down to take, the gay season in the city had 
fairly opened, and the toilers and players in fashiona- 
ble life were stepping into the full tide of excite- 
ment after the long lazy rest that had seemed bustle 
itself to the country folk among whom they had 
enjoyed it. 

They came and went, hurried and pressed, in 
and out across each other's paths ; no one had time 
to observe what his neighbor was doing, and any 
one out of ten thousand might have stepped aside or 
fallen by the way, and only a few out of the host 
would have missed him, or even known that he was 
gone. 

Now and then, among the troops of elegant 
equipages that made their appearance daily at fash- 
ionable hours upon the faultless driveways of the 
park, there was one that the policemen and the 
promenaders came to recognize for some striking 
characteristic of its own or its occupants. One of 
the^e few exceptions was a carriage so plain that 



tS6 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

you could scarcely tell where its peculiar elegance 
lay, with two jet black horses of perfect form and 
match, and the coachman and footman with only a 
hatband and buttons bearing the same monogram 
as the carriage-door, to lighten their otherwise 
plain black livery. Its occupants varied from day 
tc day, or from week to week, but there was always 
among them, as light and centre of the party, a fair 
young face, circled by a rare beauty of misty golden 
hair, and lighted by deep violet eyes through which 
some bright spirit, now gay, now thoughtful, now 
sprightly and fascinating, looked always earnestly 
out. 

There was a tired little child that came out 
every day in hopes of new strength from the free 
air and pleasant sights, and that would never go 
home, tired as it might be, until this carriage had 
passed and it had had a look into the face that 
smiled under the golden hair ; and there were big, 
strong policemen that made a point in their long 
dull beat, when it went by; and there were gay 
horsemen who seemed to think their ride was over, 
and strollers on foot who seemed satisfied to go, 
when they had joined it for a few paces, or received 
a bow as it passed. 

But this morning any one who watched for il 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 187 

watched in vain ; it had turned quickly in quite an- 
other direction, and with only two occupants had 
made its way through comparatively quiet streets 
until it reached a large brown building with broad 
flights of steps, and quiet seeming to reign about 
it, even through all the noise and bustle that 
pressed it close on every side. 

The footman opened the carriage-door and 
handed a basket of hot-house flowers to one of the 
ladies, and the statuesque coachman settled him- 
self into waiting attitude, as the two ladies alighted 
and ascending the broad steps made their way into 
the great open hall and through the high, airy pas- 
sages inside. 

" I wonder has that lady any friend sick here," 
whispered an attendant as they passed ; " the one 
with the beautiful hair, I mean. She looks so ear- 
nest, as if she thought to And some one she set 
store by." 

" What a thought," was her companion's answer ; 
'* that *s Miss Ashburton, the short one with black 
eyes and bright cheeks, that comes here every week 
this two years ; you *11 know her well if you stay 
here half as long as I have. And it 's plain enough 
the other is only a friend come to see from curi- 
osity. You may know by the very way she moves 



188 RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

she 's a princess at home, and would never have a 
friend in a place like this. But of course one new 
to the place is n't expected to see all these things," 
added the older attendant complacently. 

" O Fanny, how I have wanted to come here 
with you," the " visitor from curiosity " was saying 
at the moment. " It must seem very strange to 
you that I can't get time, but this is really the very 
first day since we came to town that I have been 
free either from visitors or from something papa 
wanted me to do. You do n't know how my heart 
smites me sometimes that I have everything life 
can give lavished upon me so, and do n't even take 
one look at people who have nothing, so that I can at 
least think of them and remember how they bear it." 

"Well, I don't know," answered Miss Fanny, 
" if we can't really help them, I do n't know but it 's 
as well for us to shut our eyes pretty much, and 
leave them to those who can. Of course we can't 
refuse our own blessings because all the world 
have n't "the same. And then there are your char- 
ities ; why you have given me more this winter to 
spend here and at St. Christopher's than all the 
rest of my acquaintance put together." 

"Don't, don't speak of it," said Eleanor en- 
treatingly. 



RUTH I EPS VENTURE. 1S9 

" But why should n't I speak of it ? Where do 
you suppose I should have got fresh flowers to 
bring here every time I came, to say nothing of 
grapes for the children and flannel for the old 
ladies, if you had not been so generous? You 
have saved me one outlay too, this morning, for I 
saw I had no need to provide anything as soon as 
I got sight of that basket of yours. But here we 
are ; it is the convalescents' ward, you know, that 
I visit here." 

A nurse just passing in held the wide doors 
open as she saw Miss Ashburton approach, and 
they entered the immense airy room, lined with 
rows of snowy cots, and all alight with sunny win- 
dows, shaded more or less, as those nearest them 
preferred. At the head of every cot was a fixture 
like a chaise-top, at the front of which a curtain 
could be lowered or drawn at will, and by the side 
of each stood a tiny table, with now and then a 
cherished flower lengthening out its life as far as 
any art of persuasion could induce it. 

" Now, Eleanor," said Miss Ashburton, " do you 
want to follow me about and see how pleased every 
old woman is that I have promised a piece of flan- 
nel to, and every young girl who thinks I have 
brought a story to read ? or would you rather ex- 



190 RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

plore for yourself and see what discoveries you can 
make ? See how they are watching us ! It is 
rather pleasant to go where you know a few at 
least have been counting the hours till your morn- 
ing comes round." 

" Oh, I want to go with you," said Eleanor, " I 
want to see the whole ; only I think I will have the 
pleasure of putting these flowers in their hands. 
No, I will let them choose for themselves ! Who 
knows what flower each may happen to love best !" 

Who knows 'i Who can tell what quick rush of 
haunting memory, what tide of old association, 
what tender relenting thought of the past, what 
blessed promptings to hope and courage and pure 
life for the days to come, were wreathed around 
the flower that each one chose with trembling 
fingers, while their eyes wandered as if hesitating 
which most to feast upon, between the basket of 
treasures and the beautiful face, the pitying, yearn- 
ing soul that stooped over them as they made their 
choice. 

The circuit was almost made and the bottom 
of the basket began to show here and there through 
the few flowers that remained, as they came to a 
little group of more advanced convalescents gath- 
ered about a table in on^ of the sunny windows, 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 191 

and the last among them to take her flower was a 
slender girl whose shadowy, swaying form shrank 
half hiding behind two others, and whose lithe, 
delicate fingers, brown as a nut, were almost all 
that Eleanor could see. 

" So you are almost well again, Marie," said 
Miss Ashburton ; " it seems a pleasant thing to 
get away from that cot of yours, I am sure !" 

The woman who stood nearest her drew aside, 
and left the large languid eyes of the girl looking 
full at Miss Ashburton. 

" I am getting well," she said. " I am to be dis- 
charged a week from to-day." 

Eleanor looked at her with surprise as she saw 
not a muscle of the pensive face change, not a ray 
of light creep into the drooping almond-shaped 
eyes, as the girl spoke ; but Miss Ashburton said 
quickly in French, "Convalescence is delightful 
enough, they seem to consider here ; but you would 
think being discharged as cured was the most dis- 
mal thing in life. They do n't seem to welcome it 
at all, except the favored few who have comfortable 
homes to go to. Perhaps we should feel as they 
do, if we found ourselves on the street, with the 
place we left filled up long ago, and too weak to 
Step into it if it were not — ^just in the state of 



192 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

health, in short, when you or I would be petted 
and nursed most delicately for a month to come." 

"And they have no friends to go to?" asked 
Eleanor. 

"Not in one case out of three. That is what 
gives me so much to do very often, looking up some 
sort of resource for them. Sometimes there is an 
uncle or a cousin, or some one else, who has a shel- 
ter, and takes them in for a few days; but they 
really can't do it long, there literally is not ' room 
for one more.' This girl does not seem to have 
any one, so far as I can find out." 

"Oh, the poor, poor thing," said Eleanor, "the 
poor, desolate little creature ! So young and so 
desolate ! Oh, I never thought of this !" and she 
bent her face unconsciously toward Marie, the 
moisture springing to her eyes, and her whole pity- 
ing, grieving heart looking out through it into the 
weary, listless face of the convalescent, turned a 
little aside again, half hopelessly and half in pride 
Chat would not let its hopelessness be seen. 

It was a strange face, and one such as Eleanor 
had never found before in real life; the almond 
eyes had that peculiar droop and curve of the long- 
fringed lids that artists love; the features were all 
delicate and fine; but the coloring was the wonder, 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 193 

the rare, picture-like charm over all. Cheek, fore- 
head, brow, and throat, it was the same — a clear, 
rich, perfect olive hue, with a golden gleam light- 
ing it mysteriously ; and in each cheek, spite of the 
long sickness that had stolen the rounded outline, 
a tinge of red creeping up from underneath and 
glowing through the olive tint as if ripening under 
some warm Italian sky. 

Eleanor's eyes were riveted; but the strange 
beauty could not hide the common trouble, and she 
asked softly, " And what will you do when you go 
away from here T* 

Marie shook her head. " I have no work," she 
said, ''and I am not strong enough to do it if I 
had ; my hands tremble still." 

Eleanor glanced at the long slender fingers 
that looked so much more brown as they clasped 
the white carnation Marie had chosen, and saw the 
flower quivering and nodding as if a breeze were 
passing over it. 

** But you have friends .?" she asked again, bend- 
ing another look of loving sympathy upon the 
girl. 

Marie hesitated. "Yes," she said slowly, "I 
have a friend ; only one, though," and she turned 
her face away again with a closer and more deter« 

>3 



194 RUTH IBS VENTURE. 

rained look of reserve. But Eleanor could read it 
all ; she caught the quick tremor of the almond 
eyes, as if they saw something before them from 
which they shrank, some painful choice close at 
hand that must be made. 

"Oh, I know it is not a true friend," she ex- 
claimed to herself ; " it is a friend she had better 
never see !'' and she turned quickly to Miss Ashbur- 
ton, who had stepped to a table a little aside and 
was sorting some papers she had brought. 

" Oh, what a pleasure it will be to help her — to 
make her safe and comfortable for a month at least, 
until she gets her strength ! How much money 
may I give you for her .^" she asked eagerly. 

"None at all, not a penny," answered Miss 
Ashburton. " That is the very thing there is no 
safety in with these people. I wish there were, for 
it would be altogether less trouble ; but there is n't 
one out of twenty that you can trust. You have to 
rack your brains and your resources together to get 
something for them that they are equal to, and then 
half the time they do n't want it, and wont take it, 
after all. The only thing is to try them, and some- 
times, I must say, I get discouraged about even try- 
ing. And this time, to tell the truth, brains an 1 
resources seem to fail together. I do n't see whom 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 19S 

I could ask or what I could find at this moment for 
just such a case ; and, besides, as I tell you, ten to 
one it would be all labor thrown away." 

Eleanor's eyes opened wide with surprise and 
trouble. " But, Fanny, if she really has no friends 
and no employment, what can she do } What can 
we do but help her T' 

" Of course I shall try. I will keep her in mind, 
and if I hear of anything, or can think of anything 
before I come here again, I shall give her the 
chance, of course. But you 've no idea how diffi- 
cult it is, or how uncertain she may be, if I suc- 
ceed. And it really is impossible to help every one 
we see, you know ; and I hardly know how to get 
through with all I have on my list already." 

Eleanor turned and looked sorrowfully back 
toward the averted face. It was stooping over the 
white carnation now, and resting softly upon it, as 
if giving and taking a long, lingering caress. 

" And that is all, that little flower is all of pu- 
rity she has to cling to — all that is ready to breathe 
a loving fragrance into her poor life !" she thought 
sorrowfully ; " and she craves them and longs for 
them, I know. Not just as the rest of us do per- 
haps, for there must be a strange nature of her own 
under that strange, beautiful face— not beautiful tq 



A* V 



f96 RUTHIEPS VENTURE, 

every eye, I know, but wonderful to all, and to an 
artist—'* 

A sudden thought flashed upon Eleanor, and 
she turned hastily to Miss Ashburton. 'Fanny, 
don't you see this Marie has that very coloring 
that rare rich russet brown that Akerman delights 
in, that his pictures are known by everywhere ?" 

" Why, yes, she has ; it is very peculiar, I know ; 
but I never thought of it in that connection." 

" And did n't you hear Grace say that it is very 
diflicult, almost impossible to any brush but his, to 
get it without a copy, and that he and his pupils 
are always bewailing themselves that such a com- 
plexion cannot be found this side of Spain ?" 

" Why, yes," said Miss Fanny again, rather be- 
wildered at Eleanor's impetuosity. 

" Well, then, would it not be the easiest thing 
in the world to ask some of them if they would not 
like to see her, and let her sit for them, if the color- 
ing is really what they want ?" 

" Of course it would," said Miss Fanny, catch- 
ing the idea at last. " They are always searching 
about and picking up somebody to sit for one thing 
or another ; and they pay pretty well too, I believe." 

" Then would n't it be the very thing ?" asked 
Eleanor eagerly. 



RUTHIKS VENTURE. 197 

" Yes, if we could get it for her ; not too much 
at first, though. Sitting for the coloring would not 
be so hard ; but I have seen more than one little 
bootblack Grace has picked up run away and leave 
his twenty-five cents behind him, rather than finish 
out his posL The only trouble is, I do n't know 
any of those people except Mr. Percival, and Grace 
would not like to ask Akerman, because she takes 
lessons of Hardy this winter. Mr. Percival does 
landscapes more than heads ; still he might like to 
see her. The only trouble is to find them and ask 
them." 

" I will do that," said Eleanor, '* if you do n't 
feel like undertaking it ; only, if I find she is agreed 
and all comes right, will you engage to let her know 
when you come next week ? That is the day she is 
to leave, I believe." 

" Certainly," said Miss Fanny, " I shall be de- 
lighted to ; but if you want to speak to her again, 
you had better do it at once, for I really can't stay 
after I have distributed these papers." 

When the papers had been distributed as pic- 
tures, stories, or bits of verse seemed best fitted to 
different tastes, Eleanor was ready and joined Miss 
Fanny near the door. 

" Why what a bright face to carry away from 



I9S RUTHJE'S VENTURE. 

a hospital visit !" exclaimed Miss Ashburton, " 1 
need not ask if you have succeeded so far in your 
plan; and really I believe I see something like 
light shining after us out of those drooping eyes 
I never saw really raised before." 

"Oh, yes, she will go! She will like it very 
much. Indeed you can't really think how much 
she seemed to care ! And if Akerman or Mr. Per- 
cival, or any of the rest could once see the color 
that came up under that golden brown, when I 
asked her, there would be no fear ! Now I have 
only to send you word, Fanny, if I succeed in get- 
ting any engagements for her." 

" That is all," said Miss Ashburton, " and you 
will have stolen the pleasure of feeling, *I have 
accomplished something this time, certainly.' Now 
Thursday I am going to St. Christopher's ; would 
you like to try again ? It is quite different from 
this, you know : I always sing songs, and tell some 
gay little stories to the children, and their eyes 
dance almost out of their heads sometimes. The 
change is wonderful from the time you go in." 

" Oh, I wish I could ; but I shall have to steal 
time to see about this other matter, and I am afraid 
that is all I can possibly get. Papa is expecting 
some English friends to whom he feels very much 



ruthje:s venture. 199 

indebted since his last visit there; they will be 
here early to-morrow, and he will want to bring 
everything New York can offer, to bear." 

They passed out, and a pair of large lustrous 
eyes watched the last flutter of Eleanor's dress, 
and fastened themselves upon the door as it closed, 
when they slowly turned and busied themselves in 
the lapful of flowers she had emptied for them 
from the nearly plundered basket ; but the brown 
Angers still held closely to the white carnation 
pink. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 



CHAPTER XIX. 

The remainder of the week was occupied as 
Eleanor expected, but the convalescent ward and 
the friendless Marie were not forgotten, and she 
looked forward to Thursday evening, when in ac- 
companying her friends to one of the brilliant re- 
ceptions which a leader of the gay host had estab- 
lished among the attractions of the winter, she 
knew she should meet Grace Ashburton and Mr. 
Percival, 

" They can tell me whether there is anything 
in my idea," she said, " and if I am not ridiculous, 
they will know what to do next;" for some mis- 
givings began to creep in, as the bright coloring 
of the picture at the hospital paled a little in her 
memory. 

The evening came, and the brilliant assembly 
gathered. The hostess had decided upon art and 
prtists as a graceful penchant to cultivate, and was 
sure to have a fair sprinkling of the latter as color 
for every entertainment — ^from amateurs or masters 
as they could be obtained. "Thercf is Eleanor 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 201 

with that tireless little satellite of hers attached," 
said Grace Ashburton to Mr. Percival, as they 
stood together by a table of rare photographs. " It 
is the most curious thing to see how that flighty* 
light-headed Miss Acolaye is always fluttering about 
the sober, serious Eleanor, like a moth about a 
candle — such an opposite, and a mere child, too ! 
I only wonder that Eleanor has patience or spare 
moments to be fluttered about. Look at them! 
You would not think there was a gentleman in the 
room, to see how they are engrossing each other." 

" Miss Acolaye has seized one of those spare 
moments that many of the rest of us are ready to 
envy her," replied Mr. Percival ; " but I think they 
are coming this way." 

" Why yes, they seem to be coming toward us, 
and just as Mr. McDowell was trying to pay Eleanor 
the same compliment. That looks like a decided 
cut, poor fellow," said Miss Grace ; and as Eleanor 
reached them, she ran on in the same strain : 

" Why this is charming, Eleanor, that you have 
a few moments to bestow; but I'm afraid poor 
Fred McDowell thinks the compliment was hardly 
meant for us." 

" Why, what do you mean ?" asked Eleanor with 
wide>open eyes. 



J02 RUTHIEPS VENTURE. 

"I thought you saw him just coming up, and 
meant to leave him in the lurch." 

**\r asked Eleanor. "Of course not! Why 
should I leave him in the lurch ?" 

Miss Ashburton gave a little shrug. '' Of course 
you have heard how Fred has been going on of 
late, and I thought you might know that some of 
the young ladies are taking pains to shun him ; he 
is getting a little too far." 

" I do n't know what you mean !" replied Elea- 
nor, looking in bewilderment from one to the other. 

"She means," said Mr. Percival regretfully, 
** that poor McDowell seems to be giving up the 
fight against his habits that have been threatening 
the ruin of him the last year. He made a pretty 
good stand for a while, but the mischief seems 
playing with it all again just now. It is a terrible 
thing to see, for he is the hest-hearted fellow in the 
world, and ranked head and shoulders over all his 
class. He is throwing away the most brilliant 
talents before he is half through getting his pro- 
fession." 

" Yes," said Miss Grace, " and I am so sorry 
for his mother and sisters. The only brother, and 
their hearts are set on him. Strange you have not 
beard of it before, Eleanor." 



RUTHJE'S VENTURE. 203 

"Poor, poor fellow!" exclaimed Eleanor, turn- 
ing in the direction where the elegant young man 
of fashion had disappeared, with much the same 
look she had expended on the homeless and friend- 
less girl in the convalescent ward. " I did not 
know; no one seems to tell me these things; he 
has always appeared perfectly well where I have 
seen him. Is there nothing any one can do ? Can 
no one influence him in any way ?" and she turned 
appealingly to Mr. Percival. 

Mr. Percival looked pained and uneasy. "I 
suppose he must fight his own battles," he said; 
" but to tell the truth, I wish he had not come here 
to-night. It's a poor place for holding on to any 
good resolutions such as he needs to make. I think 
I '11 try to get near him when he goes to the refresh- 
ment room." 

" Oh, do !" said Eleanor entreatingly. " I am so 
sorry! What pleasant times we had together in 
Glenbury !" and her eyes wandered as if in search 
of the vanished subject of their conversation. Then 
her thoughts came suddenly back to the one she 
had intended to bring up when she led the "flutter- 
ing Miss Acolaye," as Grace Ashburton called her, 
to join her friends. Eagerly and with the subtle 
charm and grace that made Eleanor Gray irresisti« 



ao4 RUTHJE'S VENTURE. 

ble, and her whole winter a continual conquest, she 
told the story of the discovery she had made, and 
spread her plan for help before them. 

Henry Percival watched her face as it sparkled 
or saddened, melted or glowed, as she took one way 
or another of approaching them with her plea ; and 
the same thought that had come to lonely little 
Ruthie Dusenbury one dark day months ago, came 
quickly to his mind among the crowd of brilliant 
women around him: he had never seen Eleanor 
Gray when she seemed so rich or so beautiful 
before. 

"Miss Gray must certainly have a medal for 
eloquence, whatever her judgment may be of an 
artist's wants/' he said with a smile, when she had 
finished. 

"Yes, I should think so," returned Miss Ash» 
burton. "One moment she holds her discovery 
before us like some rare exotic flower, that we may 
take a luxurious sniff at, if we will only hurry; and 
the next she pleads and entreats us to look at it, 
with a pathos the hardest heart would never know 
how to resist." 

" I supposed Fanny had told you about her be- 
fore now," said Eleanor. 

'' Told me ? No, indeed ! She thought it was 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 205 

all safe in your care, I suppose, and we are both so 
busy, to tell the truth. I suppose you thmk work- 
ing with paints and palettes is all a fairy dream ; 
but it is not by any means, I assure you. But 
where does this wonderful creature of yours come 
from } She 's not American, surely V 

" She calls herself so," said Eleanor, " but her 
father was Spanish, she said. You would not care 
though who she was or where she came from, if 
you could once see her face. I am sure it is a treas- 
ure, if you artists really want what it is said you 
do," and she looked pleadingly at Mr. Percival 
again. 

" We really want whatever you may ever offer 
as a treasure," he replied, "and I shall certainly 
consider it a favor to have this one engaged to me 
for a few sittings as soon as you like to arrange it. 
Perhaps it will be best to keep Akerman in reserve 
till after that ; but I will be happy to go with you 
to his studio any day." 

"Oh, thank you," exclaimed Eleanor, with a 
smile Mr. Percival thought would have rewarded 
him for engaging the ugliest sitter in the world, 
and Miss Ashburton hastened to say she must have 
an equal claim in the unknown brunette reserved 
(or her. 



ao6 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

" It is exacdy what I want," she said. " I have 
been wanting to astonish Akerman by doing some- 
thing quite by myself. It will be the very thing. 
But there is Mr. McDowell again, Eleanor." 

Eleanor turned, and catching the young man's 
eye, bowed with the same warm grace that had 
charmed the most distinguished guests of the even- 
ing. He hesitated a moment, then approached and 
asked if she would go with him to see some rare 
flowers just in perfection in the conservatory. With 
a bright parting look at the rest, she took his arm, 
and they disappeared toward the opposite end of 
the crowded room. 

" I wish Miss Gray would let me have one sit- 
ting from herself," said Mr. Percival, laughing a 
little at the hopelessness of the idea. " I sketched 
all the charms of Glenbury except my friends, and 
those I dared not even look at with covetous eyes." 

" Perhaps she will take pity on you next sum- 
mer, if you go again," said Miss Ashburton, pulling 
a flower from her bouquet. 

" Then you think you will be there again ? I 
had not supposed so," said Mr. Percival. 

** I hardly think we shall, spite of mamma's 
fancy for the place. I think she will go to Italy for 
my sake. That is the country above all others fo^ 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 207 

my studies, you know. But the Grays will be sure 
to go. Eleanor can lead there, you know, while 
here she is only one of a host ;" and another flower 
was broken pitilessly from the bouquet. 

Mr. Percival looked keenly in her face, but it 
was smiling as when she bade Eleanor good-by, and 
quite unaware, it seemed, of the cloud gathering in 
the spicy little Miss Acolaye's at the moment. 

"Miss Gray seems to lead in enthusiasm for 
hospital patients even here," he remarked. 

" Yes, that evidently has the charm of novelty, 
and no wonder, coming as it does, a break in such 
a butterfly life as hers. Butterfly life is her taste, 
of course, or she wouli leave it for something else ; 
but one week of it is terrible to me ; it even spoils 
Glenbury, lovely as Glen bury is; it is so nearly 
impossible to find any work." 

The cloud that had been gathering on the face 
of Eleanor's "flutterer" grew darker, and a threat- 
ening flash sparkled in her eyes. 

" I do n't know what you mean by butterfly life,** 
she said excitedly ; " but if you mean idleness, and 
such a life as / have been leading ever since I came 
out, she hates it, and has taught me to hate it, and 
despise it too. I never thought of anything but try- 
ing to amuse myself, and did not suppose there was 



2o8 RUTHirS VENTURE, 

anything else to think of in the world ; but when I 
saw her always making some one happier wherever 
she went, I was ashamed ; and when I told her I 
was, she helped me find out something delightful 
that I can do, and mamma and I are coming down 
to see Mr. Percival about it to-morrow. And you 
will spoil part of her work too, Miss Ashburton, if 
you don't take care, for one thing I was to do was 
to get over being so cross, and I Ve kept in good 
humor the whole day, and now you are making me 
very ang^ by what you say." 

Frederic McDowell had passed a half hour of 
strangely mingled emotions between the moments 
of leading Eleanor to the conservatory and leaving 
her with her English friends again, whom she began 
to feel she had sadly neglected. All that was good, 
pure, and spotless rose suddenly before his eyes, 
warm and beautiful, lofty and glorious, as it used to 
stand in times he hardly dared to look back upon 
now, and a rush of feeling, hardly defined to him- 
self, seemed sweeping him with mysterious power 
out from the toils that were gathering so merci- 
lessly about him. Then in another moment it had 
ebbed as quickly as it came, the toils grew closer, 
and the recklessness with which temptation no lon- 
ger resisted must be met, rose in a higher and 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 209 

stronger wave, and he felt the ground gone from 
under his feet again. The ebb and flow went on, 
as Eleanor talked and smiled and passed to and fro 
among the flowers ; and when he left her he re- 
turned to the conservatory, vacant by chance, and 
walked to and fro with a step more excited than 
had ever been heard on its floor before. 

Life or death ! standing or falling ! light or dark- 
ness ! Which should it be } 

Pshaw ! Who said it was standing or falling to 
let life go merrily, and fill your cup full as you can 
while it lasts } What man is expected to walk just 
where a beautiful girl does all his life ? 

But to drift to a measureless distance from all 
that was right and good, was not that what he was 
doing ? Drifting ! drifting ! Yes, that was it ! 
Drifting ! and where ? Into blackness of darkness, 
he believed. Was there any spar he could lay hold 
of } Should he make one more struggle to escape ? 

" What, you here, McDowell, moping by your- 
self T asked a rich, pleasant voice, and one of the 
most valued of the hostess' evening stars looked in. 
"Come down to the supper-room, man. All the 
rest of the world 's there before you." 

He started with an unconscious gesture, as if 
throwing something from him. 

.14 



210 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

" No, I '11 not go to-night, thank you, I *m not 
in the mood." 

" Not go ? Why, what do you mean ? England 
expects every man to do his duty in a company like 
this, and there are a few bottles of the choicest wine 
I have seen this season, open too." 

They were strangers only an hour before, but 
the accomplished and favorite man of the world 
sometimes made friends gracefully before waiting 
to make acquaintance, and five minutes later the 
two were standing together in the refreshment room ; 
the last anchor had parted, there was no spar to 
lay hold of, the deep, dark wave rolled in, and when 
the same rich, pleasant voice said : " There, try 
that ; and if you are any judge of wine I am sure 
you will agree with me !" he bowed and raised the 
glass to his lips. 

As he did so a slight sound caught his ear 
strangely, through all the murmur going on about 
the room ; and turning, he caught a gaze fixed 
upon him with an intensity that made him start. 
It was Eleanor Gray standing near, her face bent 
a little toward him, and quivering with a look of 
sorrow, pity, entreaty and distress such as only a 
look can utter — ^words never can. 

It struck into his soul, and once more a thrill 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 211 

of life, hope, determination, ran through its very 
depths, while over Eleanor's face as he stood gai> 
zing at it again, a halo of all that was merciful and 
fair seemed to him to have gathered. He stood 
still a moment, then without a word, without a 
look at his companion, he set the glass upon the 
table and approached her. 

" Miss Gray," he said, '* may I have the honor 
of taking you up stairs V 

Not a word was spoken as they mingled with 
the comers and goers and left the room ; only the 
hostess* friend looked bewildered as they disap- 
peared, and then quietly exclaimed, " Coolly done, 
at the least." 

So says the world many a time when the step 
back or forth between life and death is taken, or 
when the first long breath of returning life is drawn 
by the man who was drowning, with only a broken 
straw to cling to one short half an hour before. 

But it is not only in brilliant drawing-rooms 
that temptation must be met, that the pure and the 
evil stand beckoning side by side sometimes ; and 
in the convalscent ward of the Good Samaritan, the 
olive-cheeked Marie, within three days of the 
dreaded sentence, "discharged cured," was that 
very evening receiving a visit from tb^ one " friend" 



..*•• 



212 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

sbe had been able to count when Eleanor asked hef 
what friends she had. 

It was only a new friend, for when Marie went 
into the hospital, broken down by a tireless watch 
through her mother's last illness and a pitiless 
struggle to keep the touch of poverty at bay until 
that should be over, she was almost as much a 
stranger to the city as to her orphanage and grief. 
And in the hospital not many had drawn to the 
reserved and silent girl who lay sometimes for days 
together without a word spoken to any one near. 
Only this one neighbor, a little older than Marie, 
but almost a girl like her, lying in the next cot, 
would peep round whenever Marie's curtain was 
-raised, and talk and chat in spite of any mood the 
almond eyes might be dreaming in. 

And when Marie left that ward for the one 
where Eleanor found her, the neighbor went before 
her, and it was a comfort to find one friendly face 
among all those strangers, and she could not help 
missing it when it went away, and thinking of it 
as a ray of light to cling to when she should be set 
adrift in the great lonely world again. And yet, if 
she clung to it, she must follow it, and where would 
it lead ? She did not feel sure. 

They had been talking a good while now, ^d 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 213 

Marie began to grow almost as silent again as in 
old days when they were strangers. 

" Well, if you are getting that quiet still wty of 
yours on again, I may as well go," said her visitor, 
drawing her shawl together. " But I *11 only say 
once more, those fine ladies are not likely to let 
another thought of you come in among all their 
engagements and their gay doings. You'll see 
when the day comes, and then you *11 find what I 
tell you is true : it is not easy for a strong hand to 
find work lying ready for it ; and for fingers like 
yours, why they look like willow wands yet ! You'll 
be glad to look for me before many days, and let 
me tell you what I can of ways and means." 

What was it that rose before Marie's eyes, the 
light, the anchor, the spur to step once more brave- 
ly out into the great hurrying fight, that had been 
steadily before them, almost day and night, these 
last few days } It was that look of yearning, pity- 
ing love she had seen stooping over her in Eleanor 
Gray's beautiful eyes, that she nad felt ever since 
like a warm blessed touch on her heart ; a touch 
that would not let her go ! 

" I am sure they will come," she said slowly, 
shrinking away a little from the touch of the shawl 
fringe as it brushed against her. 



214 RUTHIKS VENTURE. 

" Well, we '11 see !" answered her visitor sarcas- 
tically. " It 's not strange you should prefer fine 
ladies to humble friends like me, and I '11 not lay it 
up against you. If you find when the day comes» 
they have forgotten you, you may be glad to wait 
an hour or two to see if I come in. Why how you 
are holding on that faded flower in your hand !" 

Marie started and her fingers clasped the white 
carnation with a closer touch. "It is the flower 
my mother loved most of all/' she said, while her 
visitor shrank in her turn from the light that shone 
in her eyes. " She had one in her hand when she 
went home to God. I feel as if she were near me 
once more, so long as I have it in mine." 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 215 



CHAPTER XX. 

" Yes, dear Miss Gray," said little Jenny Aco 
laye, as she " fluttered " once more into Eleanor's 
room, a few days after, bright with sparkling eyes, 
fresh cx)stume, and all the nameless prettinesses of 
nineteen, " I heard some one talking about butterfly 
life ; but you have spoiled one butterfly, you may 
be sure. I have been to Mr. Percival with mamma, 
and showed him those mouldings and cameo cut- 
tings you made such a fuss about, and he says 
they're as fine as a fiddle, and I must go to the 
Cooper Institute a year or so, by all means, and 
then, if mamma will take me abroad, I may get so 
far up the ladder it makes me dizzy to think of it ; 
where I can even see the shadow of Paul Akers and 
Miss Hosmer, and who knows who ! It takes my 
breath away fairly; but I'm going to work, and 
you are responsible, Miss Gray, before any court of 
justice." 

Eleanor took the little gloved hands that were 
held out to her, and looked earnestly into the young 
girl's face. '* Why, Jenny, this is more than I ever 
thought of," she said in half-regretful tones. 



tt6 ruthie:s venture. 

"And are you sorry?" asked the flutterer in sim 
prise. 

"Almost, I am afraid; but I don't know, I 
have n't had time to think. I knew there was more 
'under this rather unsteady little exterior than every 
one would see ; but I did not think of there being 
enough to take you out of every-day life and away 
from us." 

"Why, I thought you despised every-day life. 
I thought it was the very thing you did want me 
taken out of, or me to take myself out of rather," 
exclaimed Miss Jqiny with wide-open eyes. 

" I !" said Eleanor. " I 'm afraid you do n't un- 
derstand me yet. If we all despised every-day life, 
what would become of every day } No, indeed ; it 
is life without an object that I think so pitiful ; and 
life with a pursuit that seems to me so noble and 
happy and rich." 

"But every one can't have a pursuit; people 
who have n't any special talent can't, I mean." 

" Can't they V said Eleanor. " I am afraid most 
of us would have to sit down and fold our hands in 
the race then. It seems to me that cultivation of 
ourselves, and the happiness of those around us, 
are pursuits that very common people can take up. 
If some of us have the bread and butter to bring by 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 2:7 

useful work, or discover a rare talent like yours, 
why, that is so much in addition ; but we can all do 
something, certainly." 

"Then one thing is no better than another?" 
asked Miss Jenny, rather disconcertedly. "We 
might as well all be doing the same thing ?" 

" Do n't be perverse," said Eleanor. " Of course 
you know we must all do different things, to make 
the world go on ; but it seems to me here is the 
whole thing simple enough for a much more stupid 
person than you, Jenny, to see what I mean. I 
think, when the dear Lord gave us this wonderful 
life of ours, he still more wonderfully meant it to 
be like his own, and to let us find our happiness 
as he does. You have heard me say that often 
enough, I am sure." 

" Yes, indeed ; but I have hardly got over the 
strangeness of it yet" 

" Well, then, I think the more we cultivate our- 
selves in warmth and love and purity, the more we 
are like him in our very souls; and the moie we 
develop ourselves mentally, the broader reach we 
learn to take with our strength and talents, the 
more we make of ourselves and do with ourselves 
in every way, why, so much the more our own life 
really is like his, and we can lift up our heads with 



2i8 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

the feeling that it is so. And the farther we go in 
both these ways, the more we shall be like him 
again in blessing every one who comes in our way — 
and a good many we don't even see sometimes, I 
don't doubt And all this can be done without 
going beyond every-day life, you see, I am sure/' 

"I don't know," said little Miss Acolaye, sha- 
king her head ; "it seems to me very different from 
much every-day life that I am happy enough to 
come across." 

" Well, put it into your own then, and you will 
find it gives you enough to do," said Eleanor, with 
a smile that always made the fluttering Miss Jenny 
more her captive than before. "And that is just 
what I thought you were going to do. I thought 
we were to have you right here among us, reading 
and studying, growing wiser and lovelier every day, 
keeping your power to make beautiful things as a 
resource to yourself and a pleasure to every one 
else, but making some bright blossom of happiness, 
that is so much more beautiful after all, spring up 
at every step in some heart that you come near." 

The little Miss Acolaye's face was looking into 
Eleanor^s with a glowing intensity that Grace Ash- 
burton would never have believed possible to come 
into it 



KtlTHIEPS VENTURE. 219 

" Oh, if I only could ! I don^t think I want to 
go away and see how high I could climb on that 
ladder of Miss Hosmer's, or any other, for that mat- 
ter. I think I 'd rather have my own home, and 
do what I can with my talent in that, while I have 
some one to love me best of all the world at the 
same time. Perhaps I sha'n't have that though, 
and perhaps I may think I must go some day ; but, 
dear Miss Gray, I think anything is easier than that 
'growing lovelier every day,' that you talk of as if 
it were nothing at all. Why, I have been trying to 
begin just where I am, as you said was the way, 
and it does seem to me I am only crosser all the 
time. I wonder if home is the very hardest place ! 
It does seem to me if I had anything but papa such 
an invalid, and so fretting and forlorn all the time, 
and mamma as kind as she can be, but never really 
understanding me, I could do better." 

Eleanor took the face that looked so earnestly 
out from under the becoming hat between her 
hands, and kissed it as she had the meek little shop- 
keeper Ruthie's so many months before. 

"Of course you don't expect to do it alone?" 
she said. 

"There now, that is another thing where you 
are different from any one else I know. Do you 



320 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

really suppose the Lord is willing to stay by us and 
help us, every hour and moment, all the way along, 
if we only ask him ? I do n't know a great many 
people who call themselves Christians, but those I 
do know seem to think he forgives their sins now, 
and will take care of them somehow when they 
reach the other side, and that seems to be about as 
far as it goes. There seems to be a gap somewhere 
between, so far as I can see." 

"O Jenny," exclaimed Eleanor, "you don't see 
all there really is then, I am sure. Don't you know 
that when the dear Christ forgives our sins, when 
he puts them where they can never be found, that 
is only the beginning of what he is to us ? What 
would be the use of covering the past if he did not 
lift us up out of it, and then stand by us, and go 
with us with his arm underneath us, and his strength 
and his sympathy in us and around us all the way ? 
How could he be our Saviour in any other way V 

** I do n't know," said Jenny. " I 've always been 
taught we must trust in Christ, but I never realized 
it was for every day and all the time. I 'm sure I 've 
seen people who seemed to think it was just for 
once, and that was the end of it." 

"Dear child, you don't really mean what you 
say. Don't you know that is the very blessedness 



Rl/THIETS VENTURE. 221 

of the blessed Christ, that we can cling to him, and 
rest in him, and draw strength and help and grace 
from him at every step? Don't you know that 
Shepherd and Bishop, Friend and Elder Brother 
are his dear names, as well as Redeemer and High 
Priest ? And he never calls himself by a name that 
does not mean all it says." 

"Are you suref asked the upturned face. 

" Yes, and I am sure that at every advance we 
gain we make him glad, and at every false step he 
is more grieved than we ; and that however much 
of this new life that he has given us we may give 
out of our hearts to him and to those around us, 
they may overflow a thousand times more with what 
he pours into them again." 

Miss Acolaye drew a long deep breath. " Well, 
I will try to trust hiiti for everything, and do every- 
thing because he wishes ; but life gets so much 
broader and deeper every time I see you, I shall 
get lost before long, I am afraid." 

•' Well," said Eleanor smiling, " the more you 
lose yourself in the dear Christ above and hunger- 
ing hearts all around, the more you will find of 
everything else. But I do n't want to lose you my- 
self, and I do n't quite like what Mr Percival has 
to say about it However, I wojit worry about 



221 RUTHirs VENTURE. 

that at present ; and in the meantime, would you 
like to go with me to Mrs. Ashburton's this morn- 
ing ? I promised to see her about some arrange- 
ments for to-night" 

" Only as far as the door, thank you. I can't 
stop ; and besides, something is sure to make me 
show myself the worst side out when I am with the 
Ashburtons." 

"That must be your own fault then, I think," 
said Eleanor. " I will be ready in a moment, and 
we will have the walk there together at least." 

It was just a week from the day she and Fanny 
Ashburton had visited the Good Samaritan, the day 
for the olive-cheeked Marie, weak and trembling 
yet, to step out again alone into the wide, solitary 
struggling world ; the day for Miss Ashburton to 
meet her and stretch out a warm helping hand and 
lead her where she should rest and be safe with 
friends ! It had not been out of Eleanor's thoughts 
all that happy morning, and she only longed to fol- 
low on and see. 

" I must not covet anything my neighbor has," 
she was saying to herself at last, just as Jenny 
Acolaye came in, " but what happiness Fanny will 
have this morning with that poor Marie ! And I 
suppose she has the same many a time with others 



5--' 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 22.^ 

too ! Well, I will think of Miss Piper, and try to 
believe I may be doing something after all. But 
my work is so easy, it does sometimes seem as if it 
could not be really anything at all." 

She found Mrs. Ashburton, and found her as 
she always was, full of life, energy, kindness and 
charming grace. 

"This is really delightful, Eleanor ! A morning 
call from you!" she said. "You always seem to 
bring a fresh breath of Glenbury in some mysteri- 
ous way, when you come in." 

" Do I T said Eleanor, " I must be sure of a 
welcome then. Dear happy Glenbury ! And you 
made more of its happiness for me than perhaps you 
think." 

The arrangements were soon made, the busi- 
ness talk ended, and another engagement of Mrs. 
Ashburton*s being close at hand, Eleanor had just 
risen to go, when Mr. Percival was announced. 

"Excuse my interruption," he said. "I had a 
moment in passing, and Miss Grace gave me per- 
mission to examine a picture of hers which has 
never been in the studio. She is never at home at 
this time of the day, I suppose." 

"Not often," said Mrs. Ashburton, "nor Fanny 
either, for that matter." 



224 RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

" I suppose Fanny is at the hospital this morn- 
ing?" asked Eleanor, whose thoughts had been 
following her there for the last hour or more. 

" No," said Mrs. Ashburton. " This is her usual 
day for going there, and she intended to do so, I 
know ; but at the last moment a friend urged her 
very strongly and as a personal favor to go in an- 
other direction, and she thought she must neglect 
it for once.*' 

Eleanor's face grew pale, and her eyes seemed 
starting toward Mrs. Ashburton. 

" Not gone to the hospital ! Not gone to tell 
Marie ! She will be lost, and we may never find 
her again !" she exclaimed. '* Oh, it does not seem 
possible she could have forgotten !" 

" Forgotten what T asked Mrs. Ashburton in 
surprise. 

"Oh, poor little Marie, the poor little brown- 
cheeked girl we saw there ! She was to be sent 
away to-day, and she had no friends, no one to 
go to. Grace and Mr. Percival were to take her, 
to help on till she was stronger ; and I sent Fan- 
ny word as we agreed. Surely she could not have 
received it, for she promised to attend to it all." 

" Yes, I saw your note on the table," said Mrs. 
Ashburton. " It must have escaped her mind, for 



RUTHIETS VENTURE, 225 

she did not even leave a message with me. It is 
very strange." 

" Oh, what shall I do ?" said Eleanor. " I am 
afraid she is gone already, and she will think we 
did not care ! I must go myself this moment, if I 
can make my way. I scarcely feel courage to try 
alone among all those strangers, but I must !" 

" Will you not allow me to accompany you V* 
asked Mr. Percival. " I may be of some assistance, 
and I am impatient to see this sitter of mine, you 
know." 

Eleanor gave him one quick grateful glance and 
they were on their way without loss of time. " Oh, 
if I only had the carriage," she said, as they took 
their seat in the car Mr. Percival had stopped. " I 
am afraid every moment will make us too late." 

"And Miss Ashburton promised to attend to 
this for you V he asked. " It must seem a strange 
piece of neglect." 

" Oh no !" exclaimed Eleanor warmly ; " do n't 
think of it in that way for a moment! There 
must be some mistake, or some strange circum- 
stance that she could not control. It seems im- 
possible to have forgotten it, and Fanny takes 
such a noble, generous delight in doing good ! It 
is so beautiful in her, I think, to enter so sweetly 

15 



2j6 ruthiets venture. 

into work that very few will applaud, while Grace 
is so surrounded by admirers and flatterers in hers. 
And Grace deserves them too, does she not ? How 
charming all her pictures are, and she herself so 
witty and interesting in every way." 

" It 's odd where the short black-eyed lady is this 
morning," the attendant Eleanor had met the week 
before was saying at that moment. " This is the first 
day I have missed her since the season began. I 
reckon they miss her up stairs too, for I saw 
some cloudy faces among the old folks." 

" Some of the young folks are downish enough 
too," said her companion ; " but that seems to be 
on account of going away. They never seem to 
like it, and it looks ungrateful enough to be sure. 
There 's that still, brown-faced girl ; she has been 
in no hurry getting that bundle of hers ready." 

"No," said the other; "and now that it is ready, 
she is hanging back in a strange kind of way. Her 
discharge was for nine o'clock this morning, but 
that is the way they do when they are allowed." 

"Maybe she's expecting some one to be after 
her.'' 

" No, when they have any, they are glad enough 
to go to them," she said. " It 's those that have n'tp 
that are slow to move." 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. aay 

Up stairs in the ward of sunny windows and of 
slow returning strength, a sad, immobile face, with 
a rare golden brown tint on cheeks and brow, was 
pressing close against the pane from whioh she 
had watched Eleanor's carriage drive away ; a pair 
of dark almond eyes lifted the curving lids that 
had drooped so languidly at other times, and gazed 
through the glass up and down the street with an 
eager, almost terrified look, while a withered, but 
still fragrant carnation was held tightly between 
the tremulous brown hands. Then she went back 
to her cot, and made pretence of rearranging the 
little bundle in the top of which a handful of faded 
flowers lay. Then back to the window again, and 
another long, searching look, and a dreary tighten- 
ing of the already sorrowful lips. Then a moving 
to one of the tables, and a surprise among the 
patients by a few voluntary words, and a lingering 
as if she would like to say or listen to still more. 

Then back to the window once more ; but no 
familiar face or form approaching ! It was of no 
use, and the dinner hour was almost at hand ; they 
should not say she was waiting for that ! With a 
sudden movement she caught the little bundle from 
the cot, and with the faded carnation still between 
her fingers, she said Good-by, and went out at the 



22S RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

wide door through which she had watched Miss 
Ashburton and Eleanor disappear. What made 
everything seem so dark in the great halls and 
stairways she was passing ? The look she had seen 
in Eleanor Gray*s face, that she had treasured and 
clung to and lived upon all this time, was fading 
away, and the touch of a fringed shawl seemed to 
brush harshly against her memory in its stead. 

Fading? No, it was there before her! Real 
and clear and true now, for she had met Eleanor 
face to face on the stairs ! The same face, the 
same look, only eager and troubled as it had not 
been before; and the same voice was speaking. 
How like music it sounded to Marie ! 

" And so you were just going ! Oh, how sorry 
I am, and how glad ! There was a mistake ; a very 
strange mistake, but it will be quite right now if 
you will only go with us. I found no trouble at 
all in making engagements for you, and now we 
have only to begin." 



KUTHIE'S VENTURE. 229 



CHAPTER XXI. 

One glance at the face that met Eleanor's, and 
answered back into it with such a sudden change 
of expression, showed Mr. Percival that it was in- 
deed a treasure for any artist who loved such a 
coloring as Akerman's ; but he hardly took time 
for another look, so much more engrossing he 
found Eleanor's own, and the thoughts that came 
pressing in as he watched it turning, now for a few 
low, gentle words to Marie, and then back to him 
for some sprightly resuming of their thread of talk. 

Not new thoughts by any means; they had 
been coming and going ever since the first bright 
summer days when he had met Eleanor in Glen- 
bury; but that morning seemed to have brought 
them clearer, and yet more full of questioning than 
ever before. 

" If that is not the joy they talk of among the 
angels, it is the nearest approach to it we often 
come across just here,'' he said to himself as he 
watched her, her fair face seeming almost strange 
in its fairness now, in contrast with the rare for« 



230 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

eign shading of Marie's, so close beside, but stran* 
ger still with the glow which the warm gladness 
she thought she was hiding had sent up to her 
rich cheek and beautiful eyes. 

He had seen the look that caught Frederic 
McDowell's eye in his moment of peril the other 
night; he had seen her distress when she thought 
this unknown girl might step back alone into the 
world full of sore temptations, through missing her 
as a friend indeed ; he had heard her defend the 
careless friend who had nearly caused such trouble, 
and speak generously of the one who had dropped 
such heedless uncharitable words, like shafts that 
any breeze might carry after her, at the mention of 
her name. 

Was the yearning, sorrowing pity for a life just 
swaying in the hand lifted to throw it away, the 
warm outfeaching sympathy that opened loving 
refuge to a nameless, friendless girl, the charity for 
one friend, and the generous praises of the other, 
was all this Christianity, as it is really lived and 
felt between one soul and another ? 

And what, then, was the spirit that could speak 
needless, mistaken, derogatory words, or the busy, 
active one that took delight in accomplishing cer- 
tain things, and yet could let the hand of a drown* 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 23I 

ing girl slip through hers, and even forget she had 
promised to hold it till the waves and billows should 
be overpast ? And yet did not the Miss Ashbur- 
tons belong to the same church and sit at the same 
Lord's table with Eleanor ? 

"There's a strange twist in these things some- 
where," he said to himself, as their approach to the 
studio put reflections to flight; "but there must be 
some way to straighten them out I *ve heard men 
in the same puzzle say there was no such thing as 
Christianity, and they wanted nothing to do with a 
church ; but I suppose I might as well vow there 's 
no such thing as art, and that I *d belong to no fra- 
ternity of artists, at every poor daub I see copied 
from a Michael Angelo or Rubens. Thank God, 
we do meet true copies from the great Master, here 
and there, as we go through life!" he added, as 
he gave Eleanor his hand to alight at the studio 
building. 

It was a favorite building for artists — its free, 
sunny windows and advantages for the arrangement 
of light tempting them in such numbers, that Mr. 
Percival had not found it easy to secure his room 
and carry out the intention he had so quietly de- 
clared to Frederic McDowell, of setting up his easel 
near Miss Ashburton's. And an artist's room once 



232 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

established is tempting again to visitors ; but out 
of all those opening round Henry Percival's, none 
was so sure as his to be haunted by friends sunning 
themselves between the bright colors of the canvas 
and the genial friendship of the artist himself. 

" How *s McDowell getting along these days ?" 
asked some one of the number one morning, as the 
winter went rapidly on. " I met him on the stairs 
as I came up." 

"All right, I hope; you can see for yourself, I 
think," answered Mr. PercivaL " He is here every 
day, and I only feel it a pity to have such a fellow 
as he wasting himself upon watching my brush. 
He *d do more brilliant painting and make himself 
more reputation in half an hour s speech, if he 'd 
only get through his profession, than I ever shall at 
my easel in half a lifetime." 

"Here every day, is he.^' rejoined the first 
speaker. " That must be a relief to Miss Gray, at 
least. I hear he is seen wherever she goes, and 
nowhere else, in the society world. I wonder if she 
is angelic enough to be playing good angel for him." 

"Quite," said Mr. Percival quickly, and then 
hastily turned the conversation by changing a pic- 
ture to a difiEerent light, and asking criticism upor 
the e£Eect 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 233 

He had hardly entered his room the next morn- 
ing, and was taking the opportunity for a few touches 
he could best do without visitors looking on, when 
the door opened again, and a familiar step was heard 
behind him. " Hallo, McDowell, is that you ? What 
has started you out so early this morning ? I always 
expect an hour of solitude and desolation at this 
time of day." 

" The very reason I came ; I wanted to find you 
alone. You are the only man that ever was a true 
friend to me, and I want your help." 

" Nothing going wrong, I hope V asked Mr. 
Percival, with a quick, anxious glance into the 
handsome face that had been regaining its clear 
intellectual look of late. 

" That depends upon you. Percival, I want to 
get away from here. I believe I have found one 
hope and one anchor, that with God's help may 
save me, after all ; but you can never know how 
desperate the struggle is. I must help myself like 
a drowning man, and I want your help too; and 
then, with that beacon light to look to, I may cone 
in alive, by God's grace, some day, after all." 

Percival looked closely into his friend's face 
The beacon light and the anchor could mean but 
one name — one and the same. 



234 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

" Miss Gray ?" he asked in a low voice. 

" Yes. I have told her what she is to me, what 
she always will be, whether I win or lose ; but I will 
not ask her to wait for me. I will not ask her to 
spend one thought out of her deepest heart for a 
man like me, until I have found whether I make 
shipwreck yet of myself and all who trust to me. I 
never should have remembered that I had been a 
man, never should have believed I could be a man 
again, if that soul of hers had not looked at me out 
of her eyes that night you must remember. Now 
I do believe it, and God helping me, I will prove it 
to her and to the world. But I want to get away 
from here. There are breakers round me on every 
hand. I want to find deeper soundings somewhere 
to fight my battle in, and I want you to go with me." 

" Where ?" asked Mr. Percival. 

" To Europe. To any city there where we can 
find a Law School and the highest advantages for 
you together. I will go to work like a savage, and 
have no friend but you, no temptation out of your 
sight ; and you shall mix your reds and browns and 
study the old masters and the new, till you are 
ready to rival either of them. There shall be no 
expense, and you shall help to save — who can say 
whatr 



RUTHJE'S VENTURE. 235 

Percival had put down his brushy and was walk* 
Ing rapidly back and forth across the room. At 
last he turned and stopped suddenly before his 
friend. " I will go with you," he said. " I never 
taw the pure gospel shining out of any soul as I 
have seen it through Eleanor Gray's face, and I 
never dreamed what beauty a woman's soul and 
life could bear and breathe around them, till I knew 
her. If I had had ten years more to earn the name 
and the means her husband ought to have, no man 
would have won her from me until she herself had 
told me it was in vain. I will go with you, and 
with God's grace you shall have made yourself the 
man he meant you to be, and worthy of the only 
woman I ever loved, before we see these shores 
again 



f" 



At the moment Frederic McDowell left the 
studio, Miss Fanny Ashburton was just entering a 
private room of Eleanor's where especial morning 
visitors were sometimes received. 

" You see I *ve come shockingly early," she said, 
"but I wanted to catch one moment, if possible, 
when all the world was n't hanging somewhere near. 
I 've something I want to say to you ; I have want- 
ed to say it, in fact, ever since the day of that dis- 



236 RUTHIKS VENTURE. 

graceful neglect of mine at the Good Samaritan, 
but I *ve been waiting to get it into a little clearer 
shape in my own mind, if I could." 

" Why, Fanny," said Eleanor, " I am sorry if 
you have been distressing yourself about that It 
was unavoidable, of course, and there was no harm 
done, for it all came out right and beautifully, after 
all." 

" No, it was not unavoidable," said Miss Fanny, 
" and you never would have been guilty of it, and 
there is just the difference between us, and the dif- 
ference I have been puzzling over ever since. To 
tell the plain unpalliated truth, I forgot all about 
Marie ; she slipped my mind entirely at the last 
moment ; but it would have been simply impossible 
to you to forget her. And that is not the only 
thing I have seen to show me as clear as daylight 
that there is some spirit in your work that has n't 
quite found its way into mine yet. I believe the 
amount of it is, that whatever you do for any one is 
done out of pure love, and just such love as the 
Lord spends on all the world, whatever their needs 
may be." 

" But what then } Is n't yours the same, Fan- 
ny ? Is n't every Christian's T asked Eleanor won- 
deringly. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 23? 

Miss Fanny shook her head. "I don't know: 
if they are, I 'm afraid I never was a Christian, not 
more than a halfway one at the best. I trusted 
my soul in the Lord's hands, or thought I did, and 
I thought I loved him for it, and ought to try to do 
some service in return; but after all, it has been 
more a selfish sort of satisfaction in feeling I was 
accomplishing something, than any real spirit like 
his own, any pure, tender, sympathizing love for 
every heart that can be hungry and thirsty, glad 
and sorrowful, just as mine can. And I do think, 
Eleanor, the best evidence I have ever had that he 
has taken my soul into his hands, is his bringing 
me where I could know and study you, and get my 
eyes open to see how far being a real Christian 
goes beyond the bare belief I started with, and the 
selfish love of busy, active life that blinded me 
afterwards." 



i 238 RUTHIEPS VENTURE. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

**' Hans," said Ruthie, laying down her pen and 
looking suddenly across a huge ledger over which 
the top of her faithful henchman's head was just 
visible, canted a little sidewise as if for more fatal 
aim at his work, " Hans, they do n't put Father 
Time's wings in the right place when they draw 
his pictures ! He almost always cheats me into 
thinking he is slow, and now and then a little 
tedious ; and it is only after he has fairly passed, 
that I see he has been really flying." 

Hans stretched himself up, until round face 
and twinkling eyes peeped over at Ruthie together. 

" You would put the wings on his heels, so .?" 
he asked. 

" Yes," said Ruthie laughing. " If I could paint 
like Mr. Percival you should see very soon." 

Hans dropped down again, and worked a few 
moments in silence, and then his voice came up 
over the ledger with an independent remark : "Mr. 
Percival and Mr. McDowell did not come once last 
summer any more." 

"No," said Ruthie, "I suppose Mr. Percival 



RUTHIBS VENTURE. 239 

found some new place that has greater claims than 
Glenbury; or perhaps he sketched everything to 
be found, the summer before. Mr. McDowell is 
in Europe, I believe." 

Hans did not reply for a moment, and then up 
came face, head, and twinkling eyes once more. 
" I think Miss Gray seemed not all the same, too, 
though she did not stay away like him." 

Ruthie did not answer, and she would not let 
Hans see her surprise that he had noticed what 
she herself had seen, though scarcely admitted or 
defined. So Hans only added, " Well, all beople 
change by-and-by, and so I suppose ourselves shall 
change too," and dropped down to his work again. 

Ruthie looked absently across the point where 
he had disappeared, with the half-unconscious 
thought that a little dried apple would be as likely 
to change as he, and that she was glad of it, it was 
such a comfort to find him always the same at her 
right hand ; and then the real changes of the last 
fifteen months, as if magically summoned by his 
commonplace remark, rose slowly and silently be- 
fore her eyes. 

How true Eleanor's words, that the winter 
seemed sometimes shorter than the summer, had 
proved! How unconsciously it bad glided away^ 



240 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

ind how unconsciously but surely one of her closest 
lies and most sacred burdens had been loosening 
and slipping from her clasp ! Her mother's room 
had been so many years a place where light and 
air were scantily admitted, and where complaints 
and patient ministries made up the atmosphere in 
their stead, that when the last lingering days of 
cold, and the first tempting, delicious ones of spring 
saw the same steady increase of both peculiarities, 
Ruthie did not notice the change ; only Miss Piper 
saw it, and insisted she should come a certain num- 
ber of hours a day, and relieve Ruthie from the 
peipetual call of the invalid's bell by taking her 
own station in the darkened room. 

" So very remarkable," she said, " that I should 
be feeling a little strange kind of trouble in my 
eyes just now! I really do believe I have done 
too much black in the evening ; and to think of my 
having such an excuse for putting down my work 
and resting them a little in the shade !" 

So Miss Piper took up her loving watch, and as 
the hours glided by, her eyes, whatever trouble they 
may have had of their own, saw more and more 
plainly a new one coming that she was glad Ruthie 
did not discover quite yet. But as the days grew 
brighter and warmer, and Miss Piper's watch grew 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE.. 241 

longer, Ruthie's blindness vanished away, and she 
saw plainly that while a year ago she had felt alone 
in the world because she had no one to rest her 
weary heart upon, she was to feel it all afresh now, 
because she had no weary heart to rest upon her ! 
And she had hardly time to see it in advance before 
it came, and by the time the robins had made cosey 
homes again in the old elm, she stood with a be- 
wildering feeling that her own was echoing and 
empty, and far too large for only herself and the 
two little sisters who clung more closely than ever 
now. 

" Yes, dear, it is," said Miss Piper, who had not 
needed Ruthie should tell her so, but had only 
been waiting for the right moment to speak ; '* and 
it wont do. You must have some one, dear ; and 
I *d think who, right away, if I were you." 

" I would like Hans and Barbara so much, if I 
could only afford it, but of course I can't," answered 
Ruthie. 

" Why now, I should n't wonder at all if you 
could," said Miss Piper cheerily ; " those Germans 
have such a way of managing things." And so it 
proved, and with Hans' spare time and his ribboned 
pony to work Ruthie's neglected land, and Barba- 
ra's poultry, milk, and eggs, her new dependants 

x6 



242 RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

were soon supplying her more than they cost, and 
relieving her of all her outside care at once, while 
with their own share in the produce, the rent of 
Hans' own little place, and the wages Ruthie had 
always given him in the store, he and " my Barbara" 
were growing joyously if not immeasurably rich 
together. 

Summer followed the robins as it always does, 
and Eleanor had come with it, bringing gladness to 
Ruthie's heart and the hosts of new customers Mr. 
Mudge had predicted in her train. The store 
seemed just as much illuminated at every joyful visit 
from her ; and between store and boudoir, she and 
Ruthie grew closer and closer together as the days 
went by. And yet Ruthie looked wistfully at her 
sometimes, with a feeling that something was dif- 
ferent. There was just a shadow of change some- 
where, she could not tell where. Not toward her, 
oh no ! but only as if some new experience had 
come to Eleanor herself ; as if life were in some 
way a little different thing. What was it.? She 
could not tell, and sometimes when Eleanor seemed 
more beautiful, more lovely, and more sought after 
than ever before, she persuaded herself it was 
nothing, only her imagination, after all. 

The new troops of customers could not pass un- 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 243 

noticed by eyes eager for money-making prey, and 
a big burly man, with a decided business air, and a 
heavy waxed mustache, got ofiE the stage one even- 
ing as it drew up at the little hotel, took lodgings 
for the night, looked about the village a little in the 
morning, and then came back to inquire if there 
was any building to be rented at "The Corners." 
He had seen only two broad, green-bordered roads, 
crossing at right angles, and lined on each side 
with white, green-blinded houses, shaded with 
sweeping elms or thick rustling maples, and either 
of highly respectable and dignified appearance, or 
dainty and independent in their own smaller way. 

"There *s nothing that I know of," said the hotel- 
keeper, " unless it's the little house Deacon Gosberry 
left when he went out to Grass Farms. That was 
vacated a week ago ; but it *s likely it 's engaged a 
half a dozen times over before now. We generally 
live in our own houses, in Glenbury, or did so long 
as we had a chance. There comes the deacon now, 
though. You can ask him." 

The deacon came, as rosy and blue-eyed and 
out of breath as a year ago, and the stranger put 
his question. 

" H'm ! Think of moving down ?" asked the 
deacon. 



244 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

" I think of coming in to do a little business,** 
was the reply. "I find there are a great many 
people here for a large part of the year, and only 
one store, and that kept by a girl, to supply the 
whole. It's the best chance for business I have 
seen in a long time. I only wonder it has not been 
caught up before. I do n*t want more than three 
days after I can get a rent, to try it myself." 

The deacon took off his hat, and rubbed hij^ 
hand through his curls, and looked steadily at the 
stranger, the same good-natured smile on his broad 
chin, but a look of determination in his eyes not 
remembered there by any who knew him more than 
half a dozen times in their lives. 

"Now 1*11 tell you just what it is," he said. 
" I can rent you that house, and you can come 
down and go into it, and put in all the goods you 
like ; but perhaps I 'd better tell you beforehand, 
that that 's just as far as you can go ! We all know 
that little girl you 're a speaking of, and we set a 
good deal by her ; ahd there is n't a man, woman, 
or child, in this town that *s going to buy the value 
of a three-cent stamp of anybody else, so long as 
she holds to the notion of keeping her sign out. 
And as to the fashionable folks, they always follow 
a leader, as sheep do a bell, and the lead here is 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 245 

pretty straight towards the store under that old 
elm. You can do as you like about it, but I 
should be sorry to see you disappointed in a move 
you thought looked so well beforehand." 

The murmur of applause with which the deacon's 
speech was greeted gave it all the corroboration it 
needed, and Ruthie's threatened rival disappeared ; 
the summer passed on, and autumn good-bys were 
said once more. But whatever came and whatever 
went, Ruthie's peace lay too deep to be disturbed, 
and the inner joy of which she was learning to take 
steadier and stronger draughts, kept a light shining 
in the brown eyes which all perceived, though not 
all could understand. 

A trifle older, a shade more womanly and serious, 
her face had certainly grown in this last year and a 
half which had brought so much of life suddenly 
before her ; but all the fairer to look upon, as many 
friends agreed. And now another winter was set- 
tling down upon her, New Year's Eve had come, 
and it was over January accounts with Mr. Mudge 
that Hans was having such a pull behind the ledger, 
and Ruthie had been doing her share at the other 
side of the desk, when Hans* chance words had 
turned her thoughts aside and sent them wander- 
ing through the old year until she had almost for* 



246 RC/THIETS VENTURE. 

gotten whether past or present ruled An unusu- 
ally vigorous scratching from Hans' pen roused her, 
and she summoned them back and pinned them 
down till her work was done, and she laid down her 
pen in triumph. 

"Now, Hans, haven't we been doing well for 
beginners 1" she said, settling back in the arm-chair 
of Deacon Gosberry memory, and with a face quite 
as shining as his. " We 've been punctual with Mr. 
Mudge every three months ; Ethan Hardback has 
had no chance at us at all ; we 've all been comfort- 
able in the house, and I do believe in another six 
months I shall be able to do my own storekeeping 
'sins' out and out without any 'commission' about 
it," and she laughed merrily, and then finished her 
laugh with a sigh, as the thought of her aunts and 
their uncompromising verdict rose before her. 

For with all the other changes, sad and joyful, 
that had come, the drawn window-shade still hung, 
white and unrelenting, in the window of the other 
Dusenbury house, and it seemed as if Miss Sally 
and Miss Penelope would have eaten their dinners 
without pepper or salt to the end of their days be- 
fore they would have stepped inside of that terrible 
shop to buy any. Even their walks were timed for 
the most part in the early morning or evening, that 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 247 

they might not encounter with their very eyes what 
the window-curtain took so much pains to shut out ; 
and when, now and then, an unlucky necessity took 
them past the store door or the little caravan under 
the tree, by broad daylight. Miss Sally looked at 
Miss Penelope, and declared "it was a scandal," 
and Miss Penelope waved her hands at Miss Sally 
and said "it was a shame." 

"And so you will not go to Mr. Mudge any 
more, you mean T asked Hans, as the only inter- 
pretation he could put on Ruthie's last remark. 

" Not go to Mr. Mudge any more !*' exclaimed 
Ruthie. " Why, Hans, do you think I would desert 
old friends the moment my very life doesn't de- 
pend on them } I would as soon think of giving 
up Miss Piper, or Miss Gray, or yourself, good old 
Hans." 

If Ruthie had added one more name, if she had 
said, " or Mr. Larcom," she would have accounted 
for the quick little blush that came stealing over 
her face at the suggestion of having "nothing more 
to do with Mr. Mudge;" for scarcely a visit had 
she made there since Tom Larcom had taken his 
post as bookkeeper, that Mr. Mudge had not found 
occasion to summon him for a share in the inter- 
view, and Hans and Barbara had confided to each 



24S RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

other more than once a fact that had come under 
their own quiet observation, that Tom appeared in 
Glenbury half a dozen times where he used to come 
once, and that he was sure every time of some busi- 
ness to do for Mr. Mudge at the store under the 
old elm tree. 



RUTHIES VENTURE. 249 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

As the clock struck half-past ten, the last line 
of debt and credit was drawn, Hans had covered 
the glowing coal fire and put it in safe condition to 
give them warm greeting in the morning, the inner 
door of the store was locked, and the tired workers 
had said good-night and settled themselves for 
rest. 

Hans was soon snoring peacefully in his corner 
of the house, forgetful of past and present alike, 
while Ruthie sat in her own room, her little slip- 
pered feet luxuriating before the open fire, bright 
pictures gleaming in the coals, and brave and happy 
thoughts about the old year and the new flitting 
through her brain. Only a year gone by, and yet, 
and yet ! Strangely crowded as its days had been, 
bringing gifts and changes, griefs and joys, so close 
upon each other that she had scarcely had time to 
welcome or accept one before another followed — 
might it be — was it possible — that the year before 
her had still greater gifts and changes to usher in ? 

Ah, little Ruthie, you have found changes sor- 
rowful and hard to bear hitherto ; what brings such 



250 RUTHtE'S VENTURE. 

a warm light to those brown eyes, and such a quick; 
happy beating to that pure, brave little heart, as 
you think of new ones that may lie near at hand ; 
to which perhaps this year, perhaps only the next, 
may bring your half-timid, half-consenting steps ? 
Ah, the brave little heart can love as well as work 
can cling as well as sacrifice ! It will be strong 
yet, and toil and hope and give shelter, as it has ; 
but still — but still if it should find a new shelter 
and a new joy of its own ! 

The old clock ticked on. How differently it 
sounded from that restless night of a year and a 
half ago, when, through darkness and solitude, ship- 
wreck and breakers ahead, she groped about all 
those long hours for some spar, some helping hand 
to lay hold upon ! The glowing coals burned their 
pictures out, the last glimmer was almost ready to 
die away, and yet there seemed a fitful and flicker- 
ing light playing in the room. 

Ruthie roused herself and looked towards the 
window, for the strange light had the shadow of the 
lace curtain woven in fantastic traceries across and 
through it. 

One look was enough. The other Dusenbury 
house was ablaze! the flames were already burst- 
ing through the front windows of the upper story I 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 251 

With a low cry Ruthie sprang from the room and 
made her way toward the snoring Hans. 

" Hans ! Hans ! wake up ! the house is on fire ! 
not ours, but the other, and I do n't believe there is 
any one awake ! Do you hear, Hans ? Hurry, and 
I '11 be there before you ;" and away sped the little 
feet, the tiny slippers hardly making a print as 
they flew over the snow. 

In two minutes more Hans' clumsy run was 
heard plunging over the same ground, while his 
excited voice sent the cry of "Fire! fire!" like a 
bursting bombshell down the deserted and sleeping 
street. Then he and Ruthie stood together before 
the closed door of the fated mansion. 

" O Hans," cried Ruthie, " we can't wake them ! 
I've called and called, and they'll never hear! 
They must be sleeping in the little inside chamber. 
We must break in the door ! Oh, hurry, dear, good 
Hans !" 

" Fire ! fire I" shouted Hans again, and then 
look a quick glance about him for a battering-ram. 
A pile of light posts lay near the gate, waiting for 
repairs in the fence. He seized one, and sprang up 
the steps ; one — two — three heavy blows rang out, 
and the slender fastening gave way. 

" Let me go," said Ruthie, pushing him aside^ 



252 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

and springing past him ; " you do n*t know where to 
find them. See, the fire is licking the stairway 
now ! A ladder, Hans, in case we can't get back ! 
The side window !" and she was gone. 

Hans felt his blood creep, but he looked at the 
stairs and knew she was right. If he went with 
her, neither might come back. 

" Fire ! fire !" rang the queer Dutch voice again, 
and more heavy steps were heard running towards 
the house. Then Hans dashed away for a ladder ; 
he found it ; he was back with it in an instant, as 
if it had not the weight of a feather, and still he 
cried " Fire !" with a voice ten times his own. 

The village was astir at last, and men, buckets, 
and ladders moved like goblin forms before Hans' 
eyes. He saw only that one window, and that one 
ladder he held planted against it with all the 
strength he could put into his grasp. 

Where had she vanished! Would she ever 
come } Would she never ? More seconds passed, 
minutes to Hans, and more minutes, like hours. 

" There go the stairs !" shouted a voice, and 
Hans sprang up the ladder like a madman. 

" Hold on that !" he cried. " I '11 bum dousand 
lifes to find her !" but at that instant a slight figure 
appeared like a vision at the window above. 



RUTHIKS VENTURE. 253 






Yes, come, Hans !" called Ruthie's clear voice ; 
I thought I never should wake them ; but we 're 
here at last." 

" But / can't go down a ladder, and with a man /*' 
cried Miss Sally. " T would be a scandal !" 

" T would be a shame !" echoed the voice of 
Miss Penelope. 

" Come down !" shouted Hans, reaching a help- 
ing hand ; but no one stirred. The flames creep- 
ing and crackling in through the door Ruthie and 
her aunts had passed, and they stood like shadows 
against the glaring light behind them. 

" Come !" cried Hans, and then springing for- 
ward he grasped the bewildered Miss Dusenbury's 
sacred form in his arms, and dragging her through 
the window, had her on the ground and was up 
again for Miss Penelope before either of them well 
knew what had happened. 

Then Ruthie's figure appeared again, tall and 
dark against the glare behind it, and swaying for 
an instant as if her step had grown uncertain in 
the suffocating smoke. But Hans was up again 
with his strong steadying hand, and in another 
moment a wild shout of welcome rose from the 
crowd below. 

'^ She's safe, thank God!" shouted a rough 



254 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

voice; "but it's no use working the buckets any 
more. The old house has got to go I" 

"Oh, my tin box! My bonds!" cried Miss 
Sally. " Behind the chimney in the parlor cham- 
ber closet !" 

" No use, ma'am !" said the rough voice, " the 
chimney 's there, but there is n't much closet left 
behind it" 

The window through which Ruthie had stepped 
was in a bright blaze, and hungry tongues of flame 
were crawling and thrusting through it as if gro- 
ping after the prey that had escaped them; the 
last ladder was withdrawn, the men stood back 
and watched the fierce glory of the terrible element 
having all its own way now, with no disturbing 
sound but the crackling and roar of its own advance. 

Only a few moments more, and then with a 
crash one great, old chimney toppled over, the roof- 
tree gave way beneath it, and the Dusenbury house 
stood a shapeless ruin, with the staring outlines of 
its remaining walls dropping moment by moment 
before the devouring flame. 

" Oh, where shall we go } What can I do ?" cried 
Miss Sally, rolling her eyes toward Miss Penelope. 

Miss Penelope wrung her hands toward Miss 
Sally, and only repeated, " What can we dp ?" 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 255 

The words woke a strange echo in Ruthie's 
heart, and carried her back to the last day she had 
stood, little black hat in hand, before the stately 
rocking chairs which among the few articles res- 
cued, stood askew and cushionless in the snow at 
the roadside now. 

But it was no time for echoes or memories, and 
Ruthie laid her hand softly on Miss Sally's arm. 
" Why, come home with me, of course, Aunt Sally, 
of course, Aunt Penelope ! You know how mUch 
room there is, and don't let us wait another mo- 
ment, either ! We can't do anything here, and it 
is terribly cold;" and as the stroke of twelve 
brought the New Year in, Miss Sally and Miss 
Penelope, penniless and shivering, had stepped 
humbly over the scandalized threshold of the other 
house, and were seated before the fire, and re- 
freshing their trembling hearts with a cup of tea, 
none the less fragrant for having come honestly 
and in the way of trade through the joint houses 
of Mudge and Dusenbury. And an hour or two 
later they were sleeping away their excitement and 
fatigue under the same roof that covered the dread- 
ful sugar-barrels and spice-boxes of Ruthie's store. 



2 {6 RUTHItPS yENTUJiE. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

They were plain men, most of those who had 
passed the dripping buckets from hand to hand 
over the blazing Dusenbury house until it was 
clearly an idle waste of strength to make any fur- 
ther effort ; rough men, a few of them, and not one 
who would not have felt strangely out of place in 
such company as moved about Eleanor Gray every 
day ; but when Ruthie had stood once more, half- 
stifled, but safe on the ground among them, and 
they had gathered around her with their homely 
shout of welcome, not one of them told her that 
another life than Hans' had been ready to peril 
itself for hers — no one whispered the name of Tom 
Larcom in her hearing. 

"She's had enough to stagger her to-night, 
poor thing," said the same voice that had given the 
first rough, "Thank God, she's safe!" lowering 
itself now to a whisper like a child's. " He 's only 
fainted ; he 'U be round again all right by day- 
light" 



RUTHIE^S VENTURE. 257 

" I told him 't was a crazy thing a dashing in 
there, as if flames and falling rafters were nothing," 
said another. ** I told him there was no use a fol- 
lowing her, too. How could he tell which way to 
steer ?" 

" Well," returned the rough voice, " I Ve seen 
the time I'd have followed on through fire and 
water, too, to look after a bit of a girl no prettier 
than that, if she 'd been likely to be overtaken by 
'em. There's something in a man's nature that 
can't stand and see harm coming to a woman he 
sets by, whether it 's mother, or sister, or nigher 
yet." 

" I thought Tom Larcom had more business in 
Glenbury lately than he ever seemed to have a 
fancy for before," piped in Job Herkimer, the anti- 
quated and privileged little postmaster; "but he's 
showed his hand to-night, certain." 

" That rafter took him in a bad way," added the 
rough voice. " T was a heavy one, and struck him 
fair on the head. But I believe it saved his life 
after all, stopping him just where he was. Your 
hat 's a smoking, elder !" 

The young minister who had preached his can- 
didating sermon on the first Sunday Ruthie came 
alone in her black dress to the little green-blinded 

X7 



«58 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

church, took off his hat, shook a large cinder 
from it, and replaced it on his head. Slowly and 
reluctantly the flames went down, thrusting up a 
forked tongue or a fiery arm now and then as if 
groping for further prey, and one by one the tired 
and excited company dropped away, and silence 
and solitude once more took up their long accus- 
tomed reign over the two wide, snow-covered streets 
of Glenbury. 

Sleep did not come quickly to Ruthie ; she lay 
with her brown eyes wide open till after the old 
clock had ticked and struck one hour and then an- 
other ; her heart was beating and her brain astir 
with so many strange hurrying thoughts. 

" Poor, poor Aunt Sally and Aunt Penelope I" 
she was saying to herself as the echo of their pitiful 
"What can we do.^" brought up clear and fresh 
again the desolate sinking of heart when she herself 
had thought of stepping out houseless and home- 
less to seek shelter where she could. " How very 
hard it is for them ! How helpless and despairing 
they must have felt for one moment before they 
consented to come here ! How glad I am they 
could bring their minds to it ! But can they ever 
be happy with the dreadful store under the roof } 
They shall if I can possibly manage it ! I am sure 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 259 

I can arrange it so that they need not get sight or 
sound of what is going on/' Then Ruthie's brain 
went off into busy little plans of fitting and fur- 
nishing the room best adapted to the purpose, 
until at last while she still thought her eyes were 
open wide, sleep came and the rest she would need 
so much for another day. 

She knew who would be among the first visitors 
in the morning ; and sure enough, the sleepy Hans 
had hardly taken the shutters down and raked the fire 
into a glow once more, when the door opened and 
Miss Piper appeared with the silver gray shawl, a 
little awry, put on instead of the heavy blanket one 
which belonged to the season ; a mistake betraying 
an excitement such as all the little dressmaker's 
thirty years of life in Glenbury never had revealed 
before. 

Ruthie had just slipped up to her room, after 
the rather embarrassed ceremony of breakfast with 
her new guests was over, and Miss Piper followed 
her there. 

"Why, you poor little thing! To think, to 
think 1" she exclaimed, going softly up to Ruthie, 
and looking into her face before she said any more. 
The look was satisfactory, for Ruthie's eyes were 
shining and cheeks rosy with the hurry to put her 



l6o RUTHIETS VENTURE, 

midnight plans into execution, and the little dress- 
maker went on. 

" So remarkable !" she said. " I sat up an hour 
and thirteen minutes after my usual time last night, 
and then went to sleep on my best ear, which I 
never mean to do ; and so I never heard a sound of 
all that was going on, and just slept through every- 
thing as if nothing was happening to any one I 
cared so much about ; and did n*t get here to be 
any help or comfort to you in any way !" 

" Never mind, dear Miss Piper," said Ruthie 
smiling ; " you can help me now if you '11 only go 
and talk to Aunt Sally and Aunt Penelope a little 
while, till Barbara and I can get their room ready. 
I am going to give them the south garden chamber, 
that looks out into the orchard and away down the 
southeast road, because they 'd see so many people 
coming and going in a way they do n't like if they 
had one of the front rooms, you know ; and I am 
going to change the carpet and put in the one in 
the north front that is the very same pattern they 
had in their sitting-room at home ; and we 've got 
their rocking-chairs and a few things saved, and I 
think I can make it really seem almost like home. 
But if you could just go in a little while, dear Miss 
Piper ! They seem to feel a little uneasy somehow," 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 261 

" Of course they do !" said Miss Piper, " of 
course they will ! They 'd be more than flesh and 
blood at least, if they did n't have some things to 
think of, and it's a great change besides. But 
has n't that always been the children's room ?" 

" Yes," said Ruthie, '* but it wont be much trou- 
ble to move them. I 'm sorry, of course, not to give 
Aunt Sally the front room ; but she will like this 
better I know, and it's just as large and hand- 
some as the others, and a lovely view on every 
side." 

Miss Piper's eyes grew suddenly and suspicious- 
ly dim. ** There's a lovely view on every side of 
one little girl I know," she said kissing Ruthie 
quickly first on one cheek and then on the other. 
" Yes, dear, yes, dear, I '11 go right down ! You '11 
have a morning of it, I 'm sure, before all that 
is done ; and I can stay just as well as not." 

Then she discovered the one-sided fastening of 
her shawl, unpinned it, straightened it, and hesita- 
ted still. " Yes, dear, I '11 go right away," she 
repeated ; " only I did n't know, I was n't sure 
whether I 'd better tell you something I heard this 
morning. Perhaps some one has spoken of it be- 
fore though." 

'' Something that you heard ?" exclaimed Ruthie 



262 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

with open eyes. " Not that Aunt Sally was not will- 
ing to stay I hope." 

"You sweet heart, no!" answered the little 
dressmaker, " but I thought perhaps you 'd be ex- 
pecting Mr. Larcom in to-day, and I did n't know 
whether I 'd better mention his being hurt — sick, I 
mean." 

Miss Piper did not say that all the village was 
talking about it, and about his rushing into the danger 
because they told him Ruthie had gone, and that 
she was afraid it might slip through some one's lips 
when a good many people were by to notice any 
look or word that might escape her. 

" Hurt ! sick !" exclaimed Ruthie, the bright 
color fleeing away suddenly from her cheeks. " Oh, 
tell me what has happened !" 

"He was at the fire, dear; every one was, you 
know, but me ; and he had just come home last 
night. He ventured rather far when you were up 
stairs, and fortunately something stopped him — a 
piece of timber falling, I believe ; but it struck him 
quite a blow, and they took him home before you 
got down from the window." 

Ruthie stood still and looked into Miss Piper's 
face, her little hands holding tightly to the back of 
the chair she had left, as they had that dreary day 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 263 

SO long ago when Judge Larcom first came to tell 
her evil news. " Tell me the rest," she said at last, 
slowly and without moving. 

"Oh yes, dear," said Miss Piper, "all the rest 
only it is not very long yet, you know. They 
thought he would be quite well to-day, but he is 
not; something like a fever, I believe; but not 
from the blow altogether, the doctor thinks." 

Ruthie let go her grasp ot the chair, and turned 
toward Miss Piper with a little cry. " O Miss Pi- 
per, he loves me ! He has always loved me, he 
says. He has never dared to speak of it to his 
father, and now I am afraid God is taking him 
away from me, and I shall never hear him say it 
again !" 

" You poor, dear heart !" said Miss Piper, open- 
ing her arms and drawing Ruthie into them as 
she had in her first troubles long ago, " I have n't 
the least doubt in the world, and do n't you worry 
a bit about it in the meantime. We all have to be 
sick once in a while, and come out all the better 
sometimes, like a burnt chimney, after it is over. 
Do n't you know that, dear ? You Ve been a brave 
little woman all this time, and your courage wont 
fail now, I know. And who knows what blessing 
we don't look for may be coming out of it all 'i and 



264 RUTHIKS VENTURE, 

before you really know any time has passed, you *11 
be so busy with all this work you have to do. Only 
I do hope Aunt Penelope's knitting-work was saved, 
if you Ve got to keep her contented very long. 

Before she really knew any time had passed ! 
That was the first time any of Miss Piper's little 
comfortings had seemed like mockery to Ruthie. 
How glad she was of the excuse her new cares gave 
her to leave the store with Hans that day. She 
went about all the morning with Barbara tacking 
and untacking, moving and lifting and changing, 
and by the time Miss Piper and other fortunately- 
appearing friends had talked and listened and won- 
dered and condoled with the Miss Dusenburys, 
exalted into heroines now in the village eyes, the 
room that she had seen in her night watches stood 
visibly before her at last. The rocking-chairs, re- 
covered cushions and all, stood at the corners of 
the hearth, Miss Sally's at the right hand and Miss 
Penelope's on the left, as they had always been, 
only with a little round black burn in the seat of 
Miss Sally's; the very china vases Grandfather 
Dusenbury had brought home in his own ship fifty 
years ago, and that had sailed again with marvel- 
lous safety from the mantel to the snowbank the 
night before, were in their places again, as if they 



RUTHIBTS VENTURE. 265 

had never stirred. Miss Penelope's yam-basket 
stood on its own three-legged table beside her chair, 
and Barbara declared if the Miss Dusenburys would 
only shut their eyes and turn round three times, 
they would never know it was not the very room 
where they had knit and rocked ever since Ruthie 
was born. 

Then she went to the dinner-table and brought 
up one subject after another that Aunt Sally and 
Aunt Penelope could not help talking about, almost 
forgetting what was nearer home as they did so, 
and then she saw them settled in their room, and 
ooked cheerily in every half hour in the afternoon 
to ask if the fire was right, or if they would see 
some one who had come ; but all this lime there 
was a strange feeling of stillness at her heart, as if 
some great weight had come upon her, and some 
great silence was gathered about, and she walked 
through it all like a dream, and heard what people 
were saying as if they spoke with some strange, 
unnatural sound. 

How glad she was when she was free at last to 
slip away to her own room, and have no sound of 
any kind to break the stillness for a little while 
Stiller, stiller than ever it seemed, and the roon 
that had been so bright and happy with the fir& 



266 RUTHIKS VENTURE. 

light and the new year's hope, the night before^ 
seemed such a great, silent, shadowy place now. 

She crept to the window and drew the curtain 
a little aside. Yes, she could see the house ; but 
instead of the misty ray of the morning star she had 
seen glittering upon the window once long ago, the 
shaded light of the night-watchers was throwing a 
narrow gleam across the snow and up to the gate 
on the other side. 

" Oh, I am afraid I shall never have him again !" 
she said. " People do go on all their lives patiently 
working without any such joy and rest as I thought 
his strong, kind love was going to be to me ! It is 
only the dear Christ's that we can never lose ; and 
oh, blessed it is to feel that always so true — closer 
than any other can possibly come! How did I 
ever bear things before I knew what it was ?" 

It was with just that help Ruthie had been 
"bearing things" so silently and unobserved by 
other eyes all that long bewildering day, and now 
that she was left alone with it, it drew nearer and 
closer, and gathered her gently and tenderly into 
its own strength, comfort, and repose, until with 
the light still burning in that room where all her 
hope of earthly love was trembling in the balance, 
she fell into a long, quiet, and refreshing sleep, 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 267 

remembering even in her dreams that Miss Piper 
had promised to come early in the morning with 
the next day's news. 

But in the other house, where she had watched 
th^ shaded light and thought she would give all she 
bad to know how things were going behind it, some 
one else was walking uneasily up and down the 
long noiseless hall, who would have given all he had 
for the rest and peace that had let the lonely and 
yet so befriended Ruthie fall into such childlike 
sleep. 

Tom Larcom had been quite right when he said 
he believed his father would be a lonely old man 
now, but for the hope and pride that more and more 
centred in his son. 

Hope and pride ! Do they alone make love, or 
take the place of love to a heart that must be given 
it, or die of hunger and cold ? It would seem some 
men think so, and that sympathy and tenderness 
and thought for the happiness of that other heart 
have no need to enter in ; those may do for the 
childish and the weak, but they are quite forgotten 
here. 

It had been a hard blow, having Tom leave the 
office ; but he had been doing extraordinarily well^ 
that was certain, ever since. Mr. Mudge had given 



268 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

him the head bookkeeper's place, but said he ought 
not to remain there, his business talents were quite 
beyond the work. And Tom was growing more 
and more a Larcom too; handsomer than most of 
them, but like them every inch, a steady fellow in 
his morals too, and taking more interest in religion 
than he was willing to admit, his father hoped. 
Yes, the pride and centre of all he cared to live for, 
that was true ; and now what was going to be the 
end of it all ? Brain fever had a very ugly sound ; 
and it had not come altogether from the blow, the 
doctor said— only superinduced by that, he called it ; 
and he was sure there had been some wear and 
trouble of mind before. 

The Judge turned wearily toward Tom*s room. 
It was after midnight, but he could not sleep till he 
had seen him again. The senselessness that had 
been the immediate effect of the blow had passed off 
within an hour after he was brought home, but a 
vacant sort of stupor had followed it, and within the 
last few hours as the fever had come on, he could 
not pass his room without hearing his voice in the 
low muttering or the rapid excited talk of delirium. 

There was a moment's stillness now though, 
and he turned the latch noiselessly and went in; 
should he find him asleep ? 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 269 

Tom's eyes were turned wide open upon him, 
as he stepped softly toward the bed, and a look of 
pain and shrinking came suddenly into his face as 
he saw his father approach. " Do n't let him come 
here !" he cried. " I can't bear it ! I do n't want 
any one but my friends to come here. Ask him 
to go away ; it is so cold while he stays ! Where 
is Mr. Mudge ? He is the first real friend I ever 
had." 

" He does not know me," said the Judge with a 
sharp unnatural sound in his voice. 

'* Do n't let him come here," repeated Tom. 
" Ask my father to go away ! He never loved 
me ! He never kept my heart warm in all his life. 
I can bear it when I am well, but don't let any but 
real Christians come here now. Where is Mr. 
Mudge r 

Judge Larcom turned and went hastily out ; 
and Tom's watchers heard his quick sharp tread up 
and down the floor of his room overhead for a long 
time afterward. 



RUTHIEPS VENTURE. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

When Miss Piper came in the next morning 
she had on the right shawl in the right way ; but 
she had no news to bring that could make the day 
shorter or lighter to Ruthie than the one before, 
and the next day and the next it was the same. 

'* Faith and patience, hope and courage, dear, 
are what we want to pull us through," the little 
dressmaker said, in the cheeriest tones she could 
possibly put on ; " it 's a fever you know, and they 
wont be hurried: they will be waited for just so 
long. But it *s so remarkable the way I am feeling 
just now, that I Ve done too much black in the 
evening. I can't think what else it is, but my eyes 
certainly do have more of that strange feeling of 
late even than they used to, and it is the very thing 
of all the world for me to come down here every 
day and see if they feel like having morning visitors 
up stairs. And I do hope they'll get to feeling a 
little more settled in a few days.*' 

Poor little Ruthie ! Was there ever any work 
that compared to this waiting \}[i2X Miss Piper tried 
to speak of as if it were the most natural tbin^ in 



RUTHIE'S VE. ^TURE. 271 

the world ! She went quietly about, coming softly 
up the stairs, and running lightly down again twen- 
ty times a day to speak some pleasant word, or to 
look after some real or imaginary want of the 
•' south garden" room, and she attended to custom- 
ers, and holiday pleasures for the children, but all 
with that same strange still feeling about her heart 
that had come there with Miss Piper's first news. 

" But oh how different it is from the time I lost 
papa !" she was saying to herself. " It was so ter- 
rible to feel alone then ; and now I feel such a 
strong arm around me all the time, and it almost 
seems sometimes as if I heard the dear Christ speak, 
his love seems so close and I rest in it so ! And 
he will order it all right, I am sure !" 

But what that " all right" was to be looked more 
and more doubtful as the days went by, and then 
a certainty that seemed more terrible still than 
doubt began to dawn upon the people, and they be- 
gan to avoid the store, with an instinctive feeling 
that Ruthie should not be intruded upon. Not that 
any one had even said why ; it was only that they 
had been keeping their own thoughts and reflec- 
tions ever since the night of the fire. So they 
gathered in knots in the street, or met on the piazza 
of the hotel, anywhere so that they could get the first 



272 RUTHIKS VENTURE, 

morning news, and as many more instalments as any 
one leaving the house could be detained to give. 

*' It *s a hard tussle !*' said the same rough voice 
that had lowered itself so carefully that night that 
Ruthie might not overhear ; " it 's a hard tussle 
before a fever can get the master-hand of all the 
nerve and pluck a young fellow like that has got to 
fight with ; but I 'm afraid it wont hold out much 
longer, by all they say." 

" It 's a pity," said little Job Herkimer, shaking 
hii head, "it's a clear pity, but I suppose 'twas so 
to be. He never seemed to take to Glenbury 
overmuch, but when he did stay round a few days, 
there 's nobody had a friendlier, more taking kind 
of way. And the Judge will take it terrible hard 
too." 

'* The Judge !" muttered another voice, " I guess 
there are some other folks watching and waiting for 
news with feelings that go deeper than his are apt 
to.* 

Deacon Gosberry couldn't seem to bear any 
more. He stepped down from the piazza steps and 
walked away with his hat off and his hand running 
through his curly hair, as if something lay too 
heavy there altogether. 

'' If that little girl over there has got to have 



RUTHIE*ii VENTURE. 273 

any new trouble coming along, and what light there 
was ahead knocked out just as her compass was 
leading her to it, and the rest of us sinners manage 
to go along comfortably at the same time, I shall 
think it very strange," said the deacon. 

"Dear Miss Piper," Ruthie was saying at the 
same moment, "it took me a long time to learn that 
the Lord loves us even when he sends trouble ; but 
now I just seem beginning to see that he sends 
trouble even when he loves us. I don't know as 
you will think there is any difiEerence, but I do." 

" Of course I do," said Miss Piper, who had just 
got through the hard task of answering Ruthie's 
demands for the whole truth, and telling her that 
the doctor did not find the symptoms quite as favor- 
able as the day before, but that the crisis was ap- 
proaching, and they must wait for that 

" Do n't you think there are sometimes people 
who love him and trust him with all their hearts, 
and that he loves dearly too, and that go on pa- 
tiently and bravely as long as they live, doing things 
because they think he wants them to, and yet he 
never seems to send any very great happiness or 
bright and pleasant things to lighten up their lives ; 
anything that other people can see, I mean ? Do n't 
you think it does happen, and that he even takes 

18 



274 RUTHirS VENTURE. 

away the one or two bright spots they do seem to 
have sometimes ?" went on Ruthie. 

"Of course I do, dear," said the little dress- 
maker, " a great many times." 

Miss Piper said this with a bright little smile 
of peculiar loveliness shining out of her face, but 
with two such quick-springing tears shining into 
her eyes at the same instant, that Ruthie's were 
opened, and for a moment her own troubles went 
out of sight. 

" You dear, dear Miss Piper," she cried, throw- 
ing her arms round the little dressmaker's neck, 
" how could I be so very selfish and forgetful ! I 
have seen you all my life so sunshiny and so bright, 
and you have come in here every day in such a 
lovely way, and told of something remarkably nice 
that has just happened, and seemed to have noth- 
ing to do but to take anything that troubles me 
right into your heart, it never once came to me 
how lonely it must be in that empty house of yours, 
and how you sit and sew and sew all your life, and 
it is only when the flowers are in blossom that any- 
thing new or bright manages to come in ; and you 
have had no one to put her arms round you all 
these years, and I have thought it so hard to be 
without it this little while ! And of course you had 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 27$ 

it once and lost it again, didn't you, dear Miss 
Piper ?" 

The old clock ticked, ticked, ticked, ticked, be- 
fore the little dressmaker could seem to speak. 

" Of course, I did, dear," she said at last, and 
then she looked up with the smile as bright as ever, 
and the tears brushed away as hastily as they came. 

And how were the days of waiting and the 
nights of watching going with the heart that had 
just been judged as "not having very deep feeling, 
compared with some other folks" ? More than once 
Judge Larcom had come into the sick-room trem- 
bling between hope of a welcome and fear of that 
terrible blow of seeing Tom shrink away from him 
again ; and again the same look had come into his 
face, and the same words had fallen with a sharp, 
merciless sound upon the Judge's heart : 

" Do n't let him come here ! Ask my father to 
go away ! He never kept my heart warm in all his 
life ! Do n*t let any but real Christians come in 
here ! Where is Mr. Mudge ?" 

Then the nurses were sure to hear the door 
shut hurriedly behind the Judge's disappearing fig- 
ure, and the same quick, sharp tread on the floor 
overhead, or in the hall outside, for hours after. 
Then he ceased to come at alli and only watched 



270 RUTH I EPS VENTURE. 

and listened for the doctor's step, and then waited 
long weary hours for the next visit, when he could 
watch and listen again, and so get news he could 
not ask for in Tom's room itself. 

The doctor was just going away now as Ruthie 
#aid Miss Piper were having their few minutes to- 
gether, and he stopped a moment at the head of the 
stairs for the step he knew he should hear following 
him. The Judge was at his side in a moment. 

"Doctor," he said, grasping his arm with the 
hold of a drowning man, " save my boy for me if 
you can. I thought I loved him, and I thought I 
loved my God ; but what have I ever done for either 
of them } My boy was all I wanted to live for in 
this world ; but I never realized that he had a heart 
and life of his own that were starving while my 
pride and pleasure were fed. And as for religion, 
I studied it and admired it and adopted it for my 
own, precisely as I did my profession of the law— a 
system without a soul, that was all. No, I did not 
do even that. I thought I knew it, but I never got 
80 far as its first infantile principle ; I never once 
saw that love to God and love to man were the very 
heart and life of true religion. 

"And now it has all brought its own reward * 
my boy turns away and begs he may not see me » 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 277 

and if my God and my neighbor do the same, what 
can I have to say ? But save my boy for me, with 
Heaven's merciful help, and let me tell him what I 
have been, and try once more." 

When the short twilight was over that night, the 
shop door opened and Miss Piper came slowly in. 
"It's so remarkable, isn't it, dear, to see me here 
an evening ?" she said ; " but it 's snowing a little, 
and I thought there would n't be many in, and I 'd 
just come and sit a little while. To think of my 
being sure I 've done too much black in the even- 
ing, and so feeling quite free to run down and see 
that you do n't have too much care in the room up 
stairs." 

And so Miss Piper sat and talked quietly and 
cheerily, and Miss Sally and Miss Penelope listened 
and knit and rocked, and Ruthie looked into the 
fire and rested as she had not all those weary days 
before, until the old clock had ticked the evening 
pretty well away. 

Then she got up and said it was "quarter to 
nine," and she never liked to be out alone later than 
" five minutes of ;" and Ruthie went down stairs with 
her, and waited till she pinned the blanket-shawl 
that had made so many merciful visits of late. 

Then she put her arms round Ruthie, and drew 



278 RUTHirS VENTURE. 

her very close, and almost wrapped her up in the 
soft folds of the shawl. " There, dear, there," she 
said, " rest a little bit. The Lord is very near, and 
all you really need I know ; but we all do find it 
a comfort to feel the touch of a friend no stronger 
than ourselves, don't we sometimes, dear, when 
troubles get very dark ?" 

Ruthie started and turned her face up to Miss 
Piper with a pitiful little cry. " O Miss Piper, you 
do n't mean to say I can't hope any more !" 

'♦No, dear — no, dear, of course I don't, only the 
doctor feels a little discouraged to-night. But he 
do n't know, dear ; he can't tell anything about it. 
Only the Lord knows, and knows what prayers it 's 
safe to answer, and no one ever sent up truer ones 
for anything than you and I have for this. They 
say the darkest time will come to-morrow, and who 
knows but all our trouble will flee away after that, 
like the clouds that have hidden every star outside 
to-night. Only whatever happens, dear, we know 
me sun is in the heavens all the while, warm and 
everlasting, and I did n't want you to be too much 
taken by surprise by anything that might come." 

Poor little Miss Piper ! She could n't say that 
every one else had given up all hope, and that 
watchers and waiters were waiting now rather for 



RUTHIETS VENTURE. 279 

an end to all their cares than for any crowning by 
the dawn of hope. 

"And I can't bear to go and leave you, dear," 
she added, looking wistfully into Ruthie's still, pale 
face ; " only I felt as if perhaps — I was pretty sure, 
you would rather be alone." 

Ruthie stood still and clasped her slender hands 
tightly together a moment, while a slight quiver ran 
over her, held warm and close as she was under the 
little dressmaker's shawl. Then she looked up with 
a smile that went to Miss Piper's heart. " Yes, 
thank you," she said, "I would rather be alone; 
but you need not mind leaving me. Some one 
else will stay with me, you know." 

"Yes, dear, yes," said the little dressmaker, 
^ and I '11 come again early in the morning." 



s8o RUTHIBPS VENTURE. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

Was it early ? Ruthie did not know ; she could 
not tell. It seemed to her she had been going about 
a long, long time, doing everything that any one 
wanted, but with nothing seeming quite real except 
the still, deep peace that had come into her heart 
the night before. But there was Miss Piper com- 
ing at last, and how quickly she was walking ; and 
her face — how different her face was from any day 
before ! Oh, had she very different news to bring ? 

She stepped in and went quickly up to Ruthie 
with a smile that plainly came of itself, and was not 
summoned out of any resources for the hour of 
need. "So remarkable!" she said. "I couldn't 
get any message from the other house, dear, because 
the doctor had not come this morning ; but I waked 
up with a text, and I am sure everything is going to 
be all right, whatever he says. I could n't seem to 
leave the burden where I ought for a long time last 
night, and it was twenty-three minutes of twelve 
before I really laid it down and closed my eyes for a 
rest, and I never waked up this morning till seven- 
teen minutes of seven, and then there was this text 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 281 

lying as clear as the daylight right in my mind : 
' Trouble not yourselves, for his life is in him/ At 
first I thought I was dreaming, for I couldn't re- 
member at that moment there was any such text at 
ill — think of that, dear ! — but it kept coming, over 
and over, till at last I went and looked, and there it 
was, sure enough, exactly as it had come into my 
mind. And I haven't had a fear since, and don't 
you have any more, but just wait quietly and see 
what the day brings forth." 

" Waiting quietly" once more ! And where had 
the quiet come from ? Only from rest on the un- 
seen Friend Miss Piper knew she had left her with 
the night before. But now a ray of hope began to 
steal in too, from the strong assurance of the little 
dressmaker. "I never knew it fail, dear, almost 
never, when I waked up with a text," she said, and 
Ruthie waited. 

The little knots of friends and neighbors about 
the street waited too, and as the day went on there 
wa^s a little stir among them, anxious faces began 
to look up, and before long there was a bustle and 
a change in every attitude and look. He was alive 
still — ^he was better — there was a little hope — the 
doctor had come again — the crisis was past ; and 
one more night as favorable would dismiss all fear 



iSl RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

and danger together. Those were the bulletins of 
the last hour, and before another had passed the 
news had been told in every house up and down 
the street. Deacon Gosberry's high-hipped horse 
and yellow sleigh had carried it jingling out to 
Grass Farms and to every neighbor's on the road, 
and Miss Piper had laughed and cried and pinned 
and unpinned the bright blanket-shawl as she sat 
on the chintz-covered sofa in Ruthie's room, close 
to her side, and clasping all the tapering fingers 
tightly in her own. 

" You '11 be sure to feel a little reaction at first, 
dear," she was saying; "but never mind, it'll all 
settle down again in a few days ;" and so it did, and 
with the continued good news Ruthie was soon 
going around the house with an overflow somewhere 
about her heart, that only a snatch of song, low and 
sweet, or joyous and clear, every now and then, 
would satisfy. 

" Oh, it is almost too much, dear Miss Piper/* 
she said, catching the little dressmaker's hands in 
hers as she came in one day. " I don't know why 
I should have so very much given to me, when so 
many others, a thousand times better than I, go 
patiently along without even a drop of what makes 
my cup so full." 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 283 

" I guess you may take it, dear," said Miss Piper, 
with one of her own old smiles. 

Miss Sally and Miss Penelope seemed to be 
" settling down " too at last, rocking and knitting 
with really a quiet home look ; and yet some uneasy 
feeling kept up a restlessness, after all, underneath 
the repose, hardly perceptible to any eye but Ru- 
thie's. She saw, and she thought she understood. 

At last, one night, as Miss Sally sat at her side 
of the chimney, with Ruthie's New Year's present, 
a new merino, lying in her lap, and a glowing fire 
burning warm and cheery on the hearth before her, 
she spoke suddenly and with a sharp, evident effort. 

"After all," she said, " storekeeping does seem 
to make people rather comfortable; perhaps it is 
not quite such a scandal as I used to think." 

" Not quite such a shame," echoed Miss Penel- 
ope in a low voice, from behind her knitting-work. 

" Oh, I am very glad you think so, dear aunts," 
answered Ruthie, a glad smile and a bright color 
:oming up together into her face ; and when she 
went out, a few moments afterward, Aunt Penelope 
put down her knitting-work without waiting to get 
to the middle of her seam-needle, and followed her. 

"Ruthie," she said, "I don't think I've been 
much like a Christian to you ; I do n't think either 



x84 RUTHIE^S VENTURE. 

of US have. Sally never made any pretence to being 
one, but I did ; and now I do n't think I ever had my 
eyes clear to see what it really was till I learned it 
from you. I can't say much about it now, but I 
want to ask you if you could n't let me help a little 
busy days sometimes down stairs. I shall like to, 
and Sally thinks it will be quite right" 

" O Aunt Penelope !" exclaimed Ruthie, throw- 
ing her arms round her neck, and kissing her as 
she remembered being allowed to do two or three 
times when she was a little child ; and then she 
fled away to her own room and had the longest, 
heartiest, and happiest cry that had refreshed her 
for many a long day. 

Everybody had seemed to be coming into the 
store those few bright days, and everybody seemed 
to want to shake hands with Ruthie, and Mrs. Gos- 
berry came down with Deacon Gosberry, and it 
was impossible to say which had the most rosy 
dimples to show; and at last the excitement was 
over, and Glenbury winter, with its slowly length- 
ening days, its snowdrifts, and its deserted streets, 
moved slowly and quietly along. 

But though the excitement had passed, a new 
wonder had arisen. What the experiences of that 
solitary room of Judge Larcom's had been through 



RUTH/EPS VENTURE. 285 

all thei^e long dreary days, was a secret between his 
own heart and his God ; but when they were passed 
and their burden lifted off, and joy and hope re- 
turned again, every one who met him was gazing 
wonder-stricken at the change the most careless 
eyes could see. 

"It's something I don't justly understand the 
working of," said one of a group he passed one day, 
lifting his hat as he went by. " If he 'd buried that 
boy of his, I could understand 'twould take him 
down considerable, for a while at least. But Tom 's 
doing first rate, and they say the Judge is the hap 
piest man in the county, and here he is, going about 
as humblelike as a little child, and with a kind word 
for every one he meets." 

" I saw him talking to Deacon Gosberry yester- 
day," said another voice, '' asking him as gentle as 
a lamb if he would n't like to have that organ put 
in the way he 's wanted it for a year ; and the Judge 
has stood out against it like a stone wall" 

" Did you see him this morning when that little 
tormenting younket of Sloane*s, round the comer 
there, ran against him and got throwed V* asked 
Job Herkimer, who attended to every one's busi- 
ness but his own except at certain hours of the 
day. "'Twas enough to provoke more of a man 



296 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

than I am ; but the Judge picked the fellow up, and 
brushed the dust off him, and held him kind o' close, 
till the child was more comforted than it was before 
it %qK upset." 

" No," said the first voice, " but I met him riding 
over Crow's Nest hill last week, and I don't believe 
he's been seen twice on that road these ten yearf 
patt and gone.'' 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE 287 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

In the crowded, ever-moving sea of city life, the 
wreck of some great venture, carrying down scores 
who have trusted their all to its safety, stirs the 
surrounding waters with an excitement and disturb- 
ance widely felt for a few days, but soon forgot- 
ten again ; while if only some solitary life is over- 
taken by a storm, and sinks in their very midst, 
with passing sail on every hand, scarcely a ripple 
or a swelling wave ruffles the surface as it disap- 
pears. 

But this time, though only a solitary sail, it had 
been so lofty and so glittering a one, that few could 
see it go helplessly out of sight without at least 
turning to gaze and wonder and speak a few pity- 
ing or inquiring words. 

" Upon my word," said the morning viSitor who 
had met Frederic McDowell on Mr. Percival's stairs 
a year before, and who was just now an evening 
guest at one of the art-loving hostess' receptions, 
the last of the closing season, "this is about as 
great an overthrow as I ever witnessed in my short 



tS$ RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

career of observation. I should as soon have 
thought of the monument in the square out yon- 
der going down, as to see any breeze come up that 
Mr. Gray would feel as more than a rustling in 
the topmost boughs. I hear it is a clean sweep, root 
and branch. I*m sorry too, they were fine peo- 
ple." 

" That 's a fact, Murray," replied his companion, 
a young scion of one of the leading banking houses 
of the city. "Society in my set wont seem the 
same thing another winter, without Miss Gray." 

"Yes," drawled a young exquisite languidly, 
*• but still you must remember it would be Queen 
Eleanor's third season here, besides those she passed 
abroad after she was presented. Of course she 
could n't expect anything but a pretty quiet time." 

" Do n't be afool, Benedict !" answered Mr. Mur- 
ray, turning sharply upon him ; " there are some 
queens whose reign is a trifle beyond your measure, 
and from whom a few passing seasons take as little 
beauty as they seem to bestow sense on other 
people." 

" Oh, very well," returned Benedict with a sur- 
prising increase of animation; "perhaps you are 
one of the slain that Miss Gray counted by tent 
and twenties while it lasted, but that she may be 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 289 

glad to call back to life again if she can, as things 



are now." 



" Better hold your tongue, Benedict," interrupted 
the young banker. '* But what are these stories 
floating about to-day, that Mr. Gray 's gone under 
completely ; I do n't mean in dollars and cents." 

*' All true, I reckon," said Benedict, falling back 
into his drawl again, as if fatigued. '' Paralysis, I 
believe, or something of the sort. He was n't the 
kind of man to stand a storm. Bend or break, you 
know." 

Eleanor Gray was sitting alone in her boudoir 
the next morning when the footman brought a card, 
and Mrs. Ashburton followed with the same grace 
and charm that always accompanied her, but with 
a face full of earnest solicitude. "Eleanor, my 
child I" she said, reaching out both hands toward 
her, " what are these rumors that reach me on every 
hand since my return ? I have been out of the city 
for a fortnight past and only returned yesterday ; 
but some report of trouble and disaster to your 
lather seems to be in the mouth of every friend I 
meet. I must know ; and if they are true, you must 
need a friend, so I have come without delay." 

Eleanor rose quickly and went to meet her with 
a grateful smile. She had been sitting for half an 

19 



290 RUTHIBS VENTURE. 

hour with her head leaning upon her hand, and say- 
ing over and over to herself, " Let me think, just 
let me think a few moments ;" but thoughts were 
too many and too strange and new to be ranged in 
order at an instant's summons, and she was glad to 
rest a moment, and leave them, half marshalled as 
they were, to take the friendly hands held out to 
her. 

"Dear Mrs. Ashburton," she said. "I don't 
know ! Some terrible blow has fallen upon papa- 
dear papa, who has always devoted himself so to 
sheltering me from even a rough breath! It is 
paralysis, I suppose, but I can't bear even to speak 
the word. It has crushed him terribly, body and 
mind, whatever it is, and I am afraid, I am sorely 
afraid he can never gather up again !" and the first 
tears Mrs. Ashburton had ever seen in Eleanor's 
beautiful eyes rushed to them now. 

" This is terrible," said Mrs. Ashburton ; " worse 
even than I had heard ; but is this all, my poor 
child } Is there not still more to tell V 

"Nothing that goes very deeply to my heart,'* 
said Eleanor, "except as it touches papa; and it 
has touched him, I suppose, with a distress and 
agony that were more than he could bear ; but oh ! 
I wish he had told me sooner I I am sure I could 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 29F 

have shown him it was not so very terrible by any 
means ! I suppose we have lost everything, as the 
world calls it, dear Mrs. Ashburton." 

" Ercrything !" echoed Mrs. Ashburton, " how 
is that possible ; your father had no business lia- 
bilities." 

" I hardly know," said Eleanor ; " I can't alto- 
gether explain. I only know it is so. There have 
been repeated disasters and losses during the last 
year, that papa did not seem to feel very much, but 
within the last week or two there has seemed to be 
a whirlwind ; one investment after another has 
been swept away like chaff, and I believe there is 
really nothing left, only our two selves here, and 
the powers that are in us. But oh, how brave and 
happy I could have been, if dear papa had only 
been able to stand ! We could have done an)rthing, 
everything, together !" 

Mrs. Ashburton sat silent a moment, only 
holding Eleanor's hand tightly, and looking as if 
some sudden blow had fallen upon herself. " But 
everything f " she repeated once more, as if unable 
to receive the whole truth as really such. " I can- 
not understand ! even if the last investment is gone, 
here is the house, and there is the house in Glen- 
bury. That is yours, I know, and with the sale of 



agt RUTHIKS VENTURE. 

this, you could certainly live pleasantly, even if not 
elegantly, there." 

Eleanor shook her head. "There were some 
private trusts that papa had undertaken for other 
people," she said, " and they are gone with the rest 
Of course he is not in fault, and not legally respon- 
sible, but we both prefer they should be made good. 
Papa told me all about it, the night before this ter- 
rible sickness came, and we agreed perfectly. Both 
the places will have to go, to settle everything as 
we wish, or as poor papa did wish, while he seemed 
able to think at all." 

**But, Eleanor, are you beside yourself, dear 
child ! No one could expect such a sacrifice ; and 
what will you do after it is made T 

"That is just what I have to decide, dear Mrs. 
Ashburton," replied Eleanor, "and it would have 
seemed all simple enough if papa were well, and 
we could have planned and worked together. But 
now I must do all the thinking and the acting, and 
I have not quite had time. But I shall have some 
bright happy thought come to me soon — sent to me 
soon, I mean, you may be sure ; only wait a few 
days and see," she added, looking into Mrs. Ash- 
burton's face with the same smile that had charmed 
60 many friends in prosperous days. 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 293 

Mrs. Ashburton threw her arms about her with 
a quick, warm embrace. "You are a wonderful 
girl, Eleanor/' she said. "I always thought you 
were, in the brightest days ; but now, in the midst 
of these terrible things, that would overwhelm many 
a stronger woman, you are standing so brave and 
calm you hardly seem to need a friend." 

"O Mrs. Ashburton," Eleanor exclaimed, in a 
pained voice, " you surely did not mean what you 
say ; you surely did not think what a sound that 
has ! My friends were always my most precious 
gift, and now they are all, all I have left in the 
world !" 

"No, my dear Eleanor, I did not mean what 
you understand, you may be sure, and you know 
you have not a truer friend than myself, or one 
more anxious to give you sympathy and comfort 
everywhere, and assistance anywhere, that it is pos- 
sible. But tell me what I can do. Have you any 
plans formed at all ?" 

" Not yet," said Eleanor ; " it seems a great puz- 
zle just yet. Of course, everything must be ar- 
ranged to take even the shadow of trouble o£F papa, 
just so far as possible. Dear Mrs. Ashburton, it is 
terrible to say, but I do not think he will ever real- 
ize it again as he did at first He does not seem to 



294 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

remember much just now, except that he loves rae; 
he will never forget that. It would break your 
heart to see how glad he is when I go into the 
loom. So I don't think change will affect him as 
greatly as it would have once ; but if we could man- 
age a retreat in Glenbury, that is what he would 
enjoy, if anything can be a pleasure again. I really 
think he would know Glenbury and revive, heart 
and soul, if he could breathe the air and look»at the 
dear old views he loved so there once more." 

" Well, what could be easier V* asked Mrs. Ash- 
burton. " Take him right down to my house, and 
just use everything possible to reach for his com- 
fort. It is the first of May already, and the coun- 
try must be beginning to look well, and we shall all 
be down in about six weeks, and I assure you we 
will add any and every effort to yours." 

The tears sprang to Eleanor's eyes, but there 
was a smile beneath tl^em too. " How lovely — ^how 
!ovely you are !" she said. " And to think that no 
losses such as the world counts can ever touch such 
friendship as yours ! How can any one call us 
poor ! But you are too kind ; it is out of the ques- 
tion to think of it. You must just let me go bravely 
to work, and prove the truth of what you taught me 
long ago, that life is never so perfect and so happy 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 295 

as when busy usefulness comes fairly in. I do n't 
quite know what I can do yet, for my education was 
more for society than for bread and butter, you 
know, and I cannot leave papa for anything. But 
there is some One who will show me the way, never 
fear." 

When Mrs. Ashburton was gone, Eleanor sat 
down for one more attempt upon the troop of still 
confused and unsettled thoughts, when the footman 
appeared again, this time not with a visitor but with 
a letter. She took it and recognized the address at 
once, for it was not the first that had come in that 
clear round hand such as slender fingers like Ru 
thie's would never have written, if they had not 
belonged to an energetic, busy little woman at the 
same time. 

Eleanor opened it with a long breath, and a 
feeling as if some clear, refreshing breeze had made 
its way from hills and woods into her room, 

"Dear little thing!" she said. "Ill news flies 
fast, but she can't have heard anything yet;" and 
she read : 

" My very Dear Miss Gray : Your life is so 
full of bright, beautiful things, and you have always 
been so very happy, that I could not possibly be- 
lieve my little bit of news could seem anything to 



tgS RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

you, or that you would care to hear how every cloud 
is vanished out of my tiny corner of the sky, if I 
did not know you so well — if I did not remember 
how you have always cared whether I had clouds 
or sunshine to tell you about. 

" Dear Miss Eleanor, can you believe that the 
poor lonely little girl who was so very desolate 
when you first knew her, and so very tired some- 
times, is going to be made the richest, happiest 
woman in the world, with the very best and dearest 
husband that any one ever had to rest upon ! It 
seems so wonderful to me, though I know it may 
not to other people, but that will only be because 
they do not know. 

" I was so very, very lonely a little while, and it 
seemed so strange and terrible to be standing all 
alone in the world ; and then the dear Lord came so 
near, and dear friends were so kind, that I thought 
I was comforted and could go on so all my life. 
But now he has given me so much more, such a 
wonderful new happiness, that I feel as if I had only 
been a poor ignorant little thing before. I was very 
happy then, I know ; but since this came, I could 
never go back and be the same. If this great new 
joy should be taken away again, I should bear it, 
of course, but I should never be the same Ruthie 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 297 

Dusenbury you left I am very different already, I 
assure you, and so is everything in the world, it 
seems to me. 

" And one of the most wonderful things is that 
Judge Lai com, Tom's father, is so kind. He wants 
us to be married very sooi}, and come to his house 
to live. He says it shall all be ours if we will only 
come, but that he wants all he can have to love 
while he lives. 

" It all seems so bewildering, and there are some 
puzzles still remaining that I can't quite make out 
yet. The children are old enough to go away to 
school for a while, and Tom will do everything for 
them, and they are so fond of him ; but I don't see 
how I can possibly leave Aunt Sally and Aunt 
Penelope. I could rent the house easily for enough 
to support them, there is such a demand ; but where 
else could they feel at home ? and if I should try 
to put in some one who would let them keep their 
rooms, whom could I find that they would be happy 
with ? And of course I could never ask Tom or 
his father to let me go on just as I am after I am 
married. 

"So you see it is not quite settled yet, but I 
could not help writing you ; and, dear Miss Elea- 
nor, when we do see our way clear at last, if I could 



298 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

have the hope of seeing you at my wedding, it would 
be more joy to me than I can possibly tell you, and 
I am only afraid it would make me so proud Tom 
would find there was no doing anything with me. 

'' I know it is a great deal to ask, but it does not 
seem as if it could be quite perfect without you. 
You can never know what a blessing the sympathy 
that has always looked out of your beautiful face 
into mine has been, and always will be to 

" Your grateful and devoted friend, 

"RUTHIE DUSENBURY." 

Before Eleanor laid the letter down, her own 
perplexities seemed vanishing like the morning 
mist ; her decision was made. 



Rl/THIBPS VjlNTURE, 299 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Deacon Gosberry's high-hipped horse had 
taken an early start from Grass Farms, and had 
come in to the Four Corners sniffing at dandelions 
and getting a scent of opening apple-blossoms all 
the way. Great whiffs of fragrance were coming 
off the lilac-bushes too, for it was just two years 
since Ruthie had stepped through the open window 
to Judge Larcom's silver-laden breakfast-table ; the 
deacon had a narcissus, the very last of the season, 
in his button-hole, and the faded umbrella was 
tucked behind the wagon-seat, because April seem- 
ed to be playing tricks with May, and Mrs. Gos- 
berry said it would certainly be showery before he 
could get back. 

The deacon stopped at one or two neighbors' on 
the way, and there was time for the dandelions to 
make real mouthfuls instead of Tantalus cups, be- 
fore he started up his steed again, with one yellow 
blossom still hanging from the bit, and headed in 
good earnest for " The Corners." 

The stage from the morning train, the great ex- 
citement of Glenbury for at least six or eight months 



3O0 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

in the year, was just coming in as he reached there, 
and he turned toward Ruthie's side o£ the street to 
give it free roadway to the little hotel upon the 
other ; but they seemed to be playing at cross-pur- 
poses, or rather aiming at the same point ; the stage 
evidently did not want to go to the hotel just then, 
and the deacon had to pull the other rein and dodge 
away with a wondering look of surprise upon his 
face. 

It would have been more than human nature if 
he had n't looked behind him after that, to see who 
could be coming to Ruthie Dusenbury's, and left 
there before the mail was thrown oflE at the post- 
office too ; and he did look behind him, and the 
horse and wagon both had nearly wandered oflE into 
the fence on the opposite side, before he turned 
back again with the look of amazement doubled or 
trebled, and rescued them. 

" What in all creation !" said the deacon. " There 
never was but one woman on this earth with such 
a pair of eyes, and such a golden crown of hair, so 
to speak, and such a royal way of stepping off, as 
that one has! If that isn't Miss Eleanor Gray 
come down here before May-day has hardly passed, 
and stopping at the store under the old elm !" 

The deacon would have given half his seed-corn 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 301 

to go in and see ; but he would n't have gone in, 
either, for the whole of it; so he wandered about 
and did all the errands he could think of everywhere 
else first, and by the time he thought it really the 
handsome thing to appear and ask Hans for what 
he wanted, Ruthie's surprise was over, and she and 
Eleanor were seated on the chintz-covered sofa up 
stairs, with their talk pretty well under way. 

"You see, Ruthie dear," Eleanor was saying, 
"I am just about where you were, strange as it 
seems to realize it, when you first had to ask, 
'What shall I do?' those two long — short years 
ago. I 'must do something,' just as you used to 
say, and I must keep by papa. Now if you want to 
give up the store, independent little creature that 
you are getting to be, and Glenbury is the happiest 
place for papa, why is n't it the very thing for me 
to come here and try what I can do with it ?" 

"But you!" exclaimed Ruthie, with the little 
gasp she could not quite get over yet at the idea. 
" I can't think of you behind the counter here, sell- 
ing all kinds of things to whoever may ask for 
them !" 

" But why not .?" said Eleanor. " Should not I 
be just as truly a lady there as an)rwhere } Don't 
we dignify whatever we do, and bring it up to our 



302 RUTHIKS VENTURE. 

own level, wherever that may be? But I don't 
think I should do exactly what you are thinking of. 
I have been laying very ambitious plans, little Ru- 
thie, and think of enlarging the business. I think 
if you will rent me the two front rooms instead of 
only the one you have used, Hans and Barbara 
might stay just as they are, and make what they 
can for themselves and your aunts out of the place, 
and I would employ Hans to manage the store as 
it is, and take the other room for flowers and fancy 
articles such as I am famous for making myself. 

" There .will be more visitors than ever this 
summer, I have every reason to think, and there 
was a great hue and cry for flowers last year ; and 
I had been planning in my own mind to have 
Briggs raise a special supply, and bring them down 
to you every morning, to see what a fortune you 
could make out of them. But poor Briggs, he*s 
gone to some one that can afford to keep him." 

"But whom will you have to do an)rthing for 
you ? You must have some one to do things," said 
Ruthie. 

" Whom do you think ? In the first place, do 
you remember the cottage papa had built for Briggs 
last year } It was a picturesque little thing, and as 
nicely and prettily finished inside as any one need 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 303 

ask ; and it stood in a sort of corner, you know, 
quite by itself, and with a good bit of ground that 
seemed to belong to it by the lay of the land. I 
do n't think the place will sell much better with it 
than without it, and I mean to keep that, and you 
will see what a tempting little place I shall make 
of it. Mrs. Larcom will be wanting to come and 
take tea with me immediately, you may be sure. 

" Then I have a little Marie, a half-Spanish girl, 
whom I knew in the hospital more than a year ago. 
She has been with a florist almost ever since, and 
it is hard to say whether she has the most enthusi- 
astic love for flowers, or they for her. At any rate, 
they spring up under her touch as if she held a fairy 
wand, and nothing ever fails to flourish that she 
once smiles upon. She is all devotion to me, and 
insists that nothing will do but she shall come with 
us. She will make the garden blossom like a rose, 
and keep my little house like waxwork, and wheel 
papa out while I am away ; and so, you see, I shall 
just sit here in my shop, with my flowers and my 
worsteds, or what not, all around, and hold recep- 
tions for my friends, new and old. The people here 
all think kindly of me, don't they, Ruthie dear?" 
asked Eleanor, looking earnestly up into Ruthie's 
face. 



S04 RUrHIKS VENTURE. 

This was the drop too much for Ruthie, and she 
broke down completely. "O Miss Eleanor," she 
cried, "you know they do. But to think of your 
talking in that lovely way about the store, as if it 
were nothing at all for you ! It will be storekeep- 
ing after all, spite of flowers and delicate work, and 
you might have to help Hans at busy times, and 
perhaps stay in the store while he goes to his meals. 
I can't — I don't think I can consent" 

"Now, little Ruthie, just remember for a mo- 
ment what a sensible woman you have shown your- 
self in all your own battles, and why should mine 
go any more delicately than yours ? You know I 
have always felt hampered and fettered where I 
was, and could hardly believe I was really doing 
anything in the world. Now just let me step cheer- 
ily into the new place where I am sure I am led by 
One who knows better than we, and see how proud 
and happy I may find myself there." 

Ruthie was almost vanquished, and showed evi« 
dent signs of compromising. " It would n't be so 
bad if Hans could do everything without you," she 
said; "but if you really feel that you are taking 
care of your father, it will be a great comfort." 

" Of course it will, as Miss Piper says. Poor, 
dear, suffering papa ! It almost breaks my heart 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 305 

to see him ; and yet I know he does not realize — • 
that is such a mercy to him ; and yet, Ruthie, some- 
times it makes me feel so strangely, drearily alone 
in the world." 

Ruthie gave Eleanor's hand a quick, spasmodic 
grasp, and neither spoke for a moment ; then Elea- 
nor went on : " You know all about that, do n't you, 
dear ? and you know where help for it comes from. 
Now this business of ours is all settled, and I shall 
be down again in a very few days to put my little 
house in order. I shall save enough out of the wreck 
to make it as pretty a nest as you ever saw; and 
I shall sell my jewels to buy you out, storekeeper 
Ruthie ; a terrible sacrifice that will be, wont it ? 
when I sha' n't need them any more. And is n't 
that Deacon Gosberry's fiery steed fastened there, 
under the tree "i I shall have to throw myself on 
some one's compassion this very moment, to drive 
me back to the next train ; and who will be sure to 
say yes with so ready a smile as he ?" 

Strangely alone Eleanor Gray surely had reason 

to feel, while her father continued hopelessly lost 

to almost every consciousness but the old absorbing 

delight in her, which, as she had told Mrs. Ashbur- 

ton, he could not forget, but which was now more 

like the clinging of a little child to its nurse than 

20 



|o6 RUTHIE^S VENTURE. 

anything she could rest upon herself ; Mrs. Daucy 
was abroad, and she had no near relatives on hei 
mother's side. 

But where was Frederic McDowell ? She had 
not heard a word from him, directly, since he left 
the country, and she knew she should not until he 
returned ; he had told her she should not be trou- 
bled in that way. But when and how would that 
return take place ? 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 307 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

That wonders never would cease had been 
proved long ago to the Glenbury people, as well as 
to the rest of the world ; but that one wonder would 
not give them time to breathe before another fol- 
lowed close upon its heels, did seem something more 
than they were accustomed to. 

It was only the first of June now, and since 
New Year's eve there had been the Dusenbury fire, 
and the transplanting of Miss Sally and Miss Pe- 
nelope, and Tom Larcom's sickness, and the Judge's 
astonishing transformation, and Ruthie's engage- 
ment, and now there was to be the wedding this 
very week ; and as soon as Rut hie had left, Miss 
Eleanor Gray, whom they had all been used to 
watch with admiring awe as she drove past them 
in her carriage, was to take the store, and carry on 
the business ! 

" I 'm pleased she 's going to keep Hans there 
right along/* piped little Job Herkimer, in the midst 
of a group who were discussing this last surprise. " I 
should be most afeared to go in and ask her to put 



So8 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

something in that basket of mine, with one handle 
pretty nigh off and the other fast coming to it in 
the course of nature.** 

" And what should you be afeared of ?" asked 
Deacon Gosberry ; " did you ever get a handsomer 
bow or friendlier kind of a smile, anywhere .'Xi your 
life, than you did from inside the carriage that 
whittled-out coachman of hers, that looked as if 
he 'd been finished in a freezer, used to drive about ? 
And do n't you suppose she *11 be just as much a 
lady, and we *11 all have a better chance of admiring 
her, if circumstances we don't have the ordering 
of take her behind the counter for a spell ?** 

" May be so,** answered little Job in rather an 
extinguished tone. 

" I guess you *11 see it,** said the deacon, his blue 
eyes melting at Job, and his chin going all off into 
dimples again, " and it *11 be as good as a picture 
gallery to me too. I do n't believe they 've got any- 
thing among their masterpieces, as they call 'em, 
that would fill my eye as that young creature does. 
And it isn*t all the real, living beauty either, it's 
the spirit looking out somehow over all the rest." 

" But they have angels in picture galleries, dea- 
con," put in Job, gathering up again. 

<' Well/' said the deacon^ the dimples spreading 



RUTHIBS VENTURE. 309 

fairly off into his rosy cheeks this time, " I hope 
they 've got pluck enough to come down out of their 
gilt frames and. go to work among plain folks like 
us, as graceful as she has, that 's all !" 

And now the very wedding day had come at 
last ; and Ruthie's brown eyes drooped a few mo- 
ments as she stood in the little church where she 
had once felt so desolate, and spoke her vows, and 
listened, with strange quick pulses at her heart, to 
the few simple words that hold and bind for life or 
death with so mystic strength and power. 

Then they were raised again, shining and full 
with the joy, half timid, half triumphant, that was 
overflowing through them, and met with an over- 
flow in return that came with a perfect rush, all the 
pent-up sympathy, interest and love that had been 
gathering up for her all these past two years in the 
hearts of every friend and neighbor through the 
length and breadth of the town. 

The Judge had given away the bride, Mr. Mudge 
was there, beaming at Ruthie with the look she 
had learned to know so well, and Eleanor was 
among them too, receiving her share of welcome 
as a new-comer, and admired as reverently in the 
simple dress she had tried to make very plain, as 
ever before ; and then she and Miss Piper slipped 



510 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

away and hastened back to the house to assume the 
responsibilities of the wedding feast. 

" Bless her sweet heart !" said Miss Piper, brush* 
ing away a tear as they accepted Deacon Gosberry's 
c«tablishment for a hurried drive home, "didn't 
she look just the dear beautiful comforted child of 
heaven she is ! Only I *m so relieved that I got 
just the right hang to that skirt, after all, and I do 
hope the coffee has n't boiled too long ! I put it 
on just thirteen minutes and a half ago." 

Several weeks passed. Ruthie would have put 
wings all over her picture of Father Time if she 
had painted it now. She had been away and re- 
turned, and was settled in her new home, and had 
looked out to see Hans take down the shutters for 
some one else than herself, a good many times, 
and it all seemed like one bright happy dream still I 
She could not realize it was only her own every- 
day life, given fresh and jo)rful from the Lord's dear 
hand quite yet. 

The summer visitors began to flock into town 
faster than before, as had been foretold, and the 
store, double-roomed now, was fuller than ever with 
friends interested and strangers curious to see all 
that was to be seen ; and whatever the state of the 
basket-handles brought, or however feeble and 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 311 

trembling the hands that brought them, it was sure 
to seem as if sunshine had warmed them when they 
came out, if Eleanor had happened to be near ; and 
the visitors to the flower-room, whether they had 
known the beautiful Miss Gray or only heard of her 
fame in her former realm, lingered, strangely fasci- 
nated, and wondered if she were really keeping store 
or only throwing grace and charm over the pretence 
of it, in some holiday play. 

The extraordinary opening for business Glen- 
bury afforded was not lost sight of by the hawk- 
eyed watchers for such things, and there were ru- 
mors and threatenings ot just such opposition com- 
ing in as Deacon Gosberry had warded off from 
Ruthie ; but no one would rent a building or sell 
a foot of land for such a purpose, and the danger 
died away again, as it had before. 

And so the summer made its way, as all other 
summers had before it, and the newness wore 
away from the new order of things ; the autumn 
drew on, the gay visitors flitted, and a silent, 
snow-bound winter was silently and relentlessly 
coming with white garments woven for Glenbury 
once more. 

And what had little Miss Piper been doing all 
this time^ while the peonies and the marigolds had 



SI 2 RUTHIBTS VENTURE. 

blossomed again, and the broken-mouthed chimney 
was beginning to send up its steady, cold-weather 
stream of smoke for the thirty-first time since she 
had lived in the queer yellow house alone ? Sew- 
ing and sympathizing, telling the minutes, hoping, 
and meeting with something remarkable, just as she 
always had, but with a dim, unrecognized shadow 
pressing, pressing, more and more closely upon 
her, until it made "waking up with a text" a more 
frequent escape out of trouble than it had ever been 
before. 

Only a presentiment at first, then a half-acknowl* 
edged fear, but a dull, heavy certainty at last. Some- 
thing was wrong with her eyes. She had called it 
" doing too much black in the evening," for a while ; 
but now for a good many months she had not 
whispered a word about it in any way. She was 
glad every one had forgotten to ask. 

She could not see to do her work, that was all; 
and a very slight matter it might have been, if Miss 
Piper had owned her house, and had a very com- 
fortable sum safely put away in the savings-bank. 
But instead of that, there had always been rent to 
pay, and the patronage of Glenbury did not amount 
to a great press of business at any time of the yeai, 
and Miss Piper had always hoped she should be 



RUTHIETS VENTURE, 313 

able to work till the last, and then the trifle she had 
managed to save would be quite enough for nurse's 
and doctor's bills, and that would be all that was 
necessary. 

But now if it were all coming out very differ- 
ently ; if her work and the resources it brought were 
coming to an end very soon, and there was no rea- 
son to expect nurses or doctors "in the course of 
nature," as Job Herkimer called it, for a good many 
years yet, what was to be done ? 

That was the question that rose with a ghostly 
outline before the little dressmaker's mind many 
and many a time, as she sat trying to get a little 
nearer the window on working days, or to get the 
right print to enable her to read and rock on Sun- 
days, as she used to do. 

It was hard to answer, and fortunately for Miss 
Piper's peace she very soon ceased to try. 

" It will all be right, that is certain," she said ; 
*and it is so remarkable that I should have two 
new visiting places where I can run in of an even- 
ing, just as this comes on. It is just the same as 
new at Mrs. Larcom's, and as good as old at the 
same time ; and it always does seem a pleasure to 
Miss Gray when I come in." 

But Miss Piper never would have thought of 



SU RUTHIE'S VENTURE, 

mentioning her own troubles to the friends she had 
so often comforted in theirs, and indeed she seemed 
to have a peculiar shrinking from letting any one 
discover that she had any ; so, as week after week 
and month after month of the winter wore on, she 
watched the slow, steady approach of her threat- 
ened danger, and spoke of it only to the one Friend 
who always understood, always comforted, and 
always would assuage. 

Still there did come once in a while a time 
when it was a great comfort to " wake up with a 
text," and on those days Miss Piper used always 
to go about with little snatches of the songs she 
had heard her mother sing when she was a little 
child. 

" I certainly used to be able to sew till twenty 
minutes of five on the very shortest days, and now 
I can't be altogether sure my seam is keeping 
straight later than five or eight minutes past, and 
the sun does not set till almost six," said Miss 
Piper, with a little sigh, one evening, as the length- 
ening twilight came to every one else almost like a 
new lease of life, and with the assurance that "the 
backbone of the winter was broken," and the earth 
would look warm and green through its mantle of 
snow once more before very long. "However/' 



Rl/THIETS VENTURE. 315 

she said cheerfully, " I do hope some one else will be 
better off for the work I can't do;" and she unfold- 
ed the bright blanket shawl and got ready to go and 
take tea, as she had promised, with Ruthie, Tom, 
and the Judge. 

But whatever may have been the reason, the 
visit did not cheer her up as much as usual; per- 
haps because she found she had got a whole breadth 
into one of Ruthie*s dresses wrong side out, though 
really the difference was scarcely perceptible to 
any eyes ; and she did not get to sleep for "an hour 
and ten minutes" later than usual, and when she 
waked at last to find the sun was up before her, one 
of the unfailing texts had come : " The Lord open- 
eth the eyes of the blind." 

The next morning, as she sat still for a moment 
after she had finished her cup of coffee, a new idea 
came suddenly into her mind : she would go into 
the city and see an oculist ; perhaps he could help 
her ! Why had she never thought of this before .? 

"It's a pretty serious matter to spend so much 
money ; I may want it more by-and-by," thought 
the little dressmaker ; but still it seemed certainly 
the best thing to be done, and she set off at once. 



Si6 RC/THIErS VENTURE. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

The oculist whom Miss Piper had happened to 
hear Eleanor mention one day as the most eminent 
in his line, was a young man from one of the old 
families of the city, just returned, within a yeai* or 
two, from Germany, with talents considered remark- 
able, and that certainly were so, if they could be 
measured by his enthusiasm. Half an hour in his 
room was sufficient to persuade any one that the 
eye was the only portion of the human system r< ally 
worth considering ; and he was so fully furnished 
with all the latest discoveries and improvements, 
from the opthalmoscope up and down, that he was 
becoming quite the excitement in the best circles 
of people who were possessed of eyes. 

Miss Piper made her way to the oculist's rooms 
with rather a trembling feeling, and was ushered in 
by a very important-looking attendant, black as jet, 
who spoke not a word, but motioned her majesti- 
cally to a seat, and then returned to his own station 
near the front door. 

She glanced about the room, and to her sur- 



jRUTHIETS VENTURE. 317 

prise, instead of finding herself in the presence of 
the oculist, saw herself surrounded by nearly a 
dozen brothers and sisters in affliction, some plainly 
and some richly dressed, and one or two with ap- 
palling green shades across their foreheads. 

A large piece of statuary stood at one end of 
the room, with crimson tapestry draped in some 
artistic representation of a shield, shaded by fes- 
toons, behind it ; there were pictures, and a crack- 
ling fire of soft-coal in the grate, but Miss Piper 
shook her head at them all. " It 's no use trying to 
make it look cheerful here with all those people sit- 
ting about," she said to herself. " They say misery 
loves company, but I did n*t suppose this man would 
have so many patients in a month. But where is 
he, for pity*s sake V* 

Not far off, it seemed, for a bell sounded, and 
the jet attendant looked into the room with an 
unmoved face. " The next, please," he said ; and 
one of the green shades arose and passed into an 
adjoining apartment, the door of which he held sol- 
emnly open, and then closed again. 

These movements were repeated at intervals, 
sometimes longer, sometimes shorter, until Miss 
Piper had time to quiet the rather nervous beating 
of her heart, ^nd to wonder she had thought her 



Si8 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

own trial so peculiar, while the number in the room 
was kept pretty well up by new arrivals. 

It was her turn at last, and her heart began to 
beat again as she stepped past the bourne from 
which no traveller seemed to return, except two, 
who had come back and seated themselves meekly, 
holding on to slender glass tubes, which evidently 
penetrated their faces somewhere near the corner 
of the eye, in a manner terrifying to Miss Piper to 
behold. 

It was a much smaller room where the young 
doctor received her with so respectful a politeness, 
and such a cheerful way of taking trouble with the 
eyes as a matter of course, that she felt her little 
palpitations over very soon, and found herself tell- 
ing him all the history of her present trouble, and 
of her original constitution, without hesitation. 

" Yes," said the doctor at last, in his comforta 
ble tone, " I think those are all the questions I need 
to trouble you with ; and now, if you please, I shall 
have to ask you to step into this room with me for 
a moment." 

Miss Piper obeyed, and her terror revived as ho 
closed the door, and she found herself in a room not 
more than six feet square, and perfectly dark, except 
for one tiny point of gas, lighted at the burner. \\ 



RUTHIE'S VENTUKJt. 319 

was turned on quickly again, though, and thrown 
with a tremendous glare directly upon a reflector 
belonging to a little instrument the doctor held^ 
the wonder of the latest German d scovery. 

" Fix your eye upon the tip of my little finger, if 
you please,'* said the doctor, as he employed all the 
others to bring the instrument close, and throw the 
light into that organ of the little dressmaker's with 
an intensity she could hardly endure. She fixed it, 
as directed, upon the taper tip of the doctor's fin- 
ger, though strangely tempted to wander to the 
signet ring it wore ; and after a moment the instru- 
ment was transferred to the other eye, and the doc- 
tor assured her he had seen everything, quite to the 
other side of her head. 

Then he removed the instrument, turned off the 
gas, opened the door, and bowed her siullingly back 
to the other room. 

" O dear, I wish he would speak," thought the 
poor little dressmaker, as the doctor took a seat too, 
and tapped meditatively on his writing-table with a 
gold pencil ; " I feel as if I was waiting for a death- 
warrant." 

It did not seem so, certainly, when he did speak; 
it was with the same cheerful smile and encouraging 
tones he had used ever since she came in. '' I do n't 



320 RUTHIBS VENTURE, 

hink, Miss Piper," he said — " I beg your pardon, 1 
oelieve you said that was your name ?" 

" Yes/* said Miss Piper, softly. 

" I do n't think," he continued, " that I shall be 
obliged to trouble you to come in for any contii^ued 
treatment. I find a good deal of difficulty with your 
eyes, but unfortunately it is of a description that we 
can hardly hope to remedy. The only thing to be 
done is to take care of them ; give up all close ap- 
plication, as to sewing or anything of that kind, and 
use a glass for which I will measure you before you 
go. With strict attention to this advice, I think I 
can assure you that the trouble will stop just where 
it is, and you will avoid the serious danger which I 
assure you you have only escaped by stopping just 
where you are. The glasses, for which I will give 
you an order on Black, the optician, you will find 
enable you to see much more clearly, but you should 
limit yourself to a very few moments, a very few 
times in the day, to anything like the use of the 
needle, or of reading, except in the largest type." 

Then he asked her to look at what seemed to 
her an immense bulletin board, of capital letters of 
al sizes, and to tell him which was the smallest size 
she could read at a certain distance ; gave her an 
instrument through which to repeat the same nz* 



RUTHIETS VENTURE. 12\ 

periment, pushing it to a certain stop which should 
indicate the extent of her success ; wrote a few un- 
intelligible words which she was to present to the 
optician, said she might pay him ten dollars, and 
bowed her out of the other door, into the care of 
the black attendant, with the most cheerful smile 
he had bestowed upon her yet. 

Miss Piper was fairly in the street and had 
wsflked a whole block before the reality of what he 
had said made itself clear to her confused and exci- 
ted brain. But it came plainly enough at last. She 
had been growing blind ! she might save what was 
left of her sight if she gave up all attempt to use it 
for work, but she was sure to lose it all, and go into 
dark, hopeless, helpless eclipse, if she did not. 

She walked on, hardly knowing whether she did 
so or not, until she reached the optician's. Should 
she go in and spend more of the little hoard of 
money which looked so precious and so very small 
now } Yes ; for if they would enable her to see a 
little better, would they not enable her to work a 
little longer ? 

She went in; the optician read the cabalistic 
signs, and handed her the glasses they designated. 
She took them, paid for them, and went out ; made 
her way to the train, took the little stage for Glen* 

2X 



533 RdTHIEPS VENTURE. 

bury, and walked up the narrow planks to her own 
door, almost as if she were in a dream all the 
while. 

" But this will never do," she said. " There 's 
nothing like taking meals r^ularly, for health ; and 
I have had no dinner, and it 's thirteen minutes of 
supper-time now." 

She put down the little basket she always car- 
ried in place of a satchel when she went into the 
city, kindled the sleepy embers of her fire into a 
bright blaze, and soon had a comfortable cup of 
tea, and her table laid with extra care, and extra 
hid-away treats out of the closet, that she always 
allowed herself when her spirits were a little down. 
But when she had shut her eyes and bent her head 
to say grace before she began, it seemed as if she 
had forgotten all that was in sight, and had a good 
deal more than usual to say, out of a full heart that 
could not wait, to the unseen Friend who did not 
need that she should tell him what she hid so care- 
fully from all the rest. Then she looked up again, 
and found she really had quite an appetite after all ; 
she had thought for a while she wished there was 
no such ceremony as supper to be observed. 

" There !" she said, rising cheerily when it had 
been very faithfully gone through with, ** noW' I 'U 



Rl/THf£rS VENTURE. 323- 

just light my lamp and get those new glasses, the 
very first thing, and see what I can do with them ! 
I feel so refreshed by my supper, I b^n to think 
it all may not be quite so bad as the doctor thinks, 
and perhaps if they fit me so precisely, I shall be 
able to do very well with them after all. I hope so, 
for I never can spend so much money again as I 
have to-day, for anything." 

She lighted her lamp^ and opened the little has* 
ket, her purse was there, and her handkerchief sind 
one or two little purchases she had made before 
she went to the doctor's, but where were the spec* 
tacles ? 

Not there, certainly ; but how could they have 
fallen out } Miss Piper remembered the brakeman 
taking the basket from her hand, as he helped her 
up on the platform of the cars, and she remembered 
a jar it had against the car door, as she came out 
again, but that was all. Somehow, somewhere, they 
had fallen out, and she had not preserved the mys- 
terious paper which had directed the optician ; they 
were gone, that was all ! 

Miss Piper sat down and gazed into the empty 
basket, and a long trooping train of thoughts, mem- 
ories and wonderings, possibilities and fears, hopes 
and trusts, seemed to rise slowly out of it, and 



314 RUTHIETS VENTURE. 

passed dreamily, and yet as quite too real, before 
her eyes. Slowly, slowly, and yet how fast they 
might all come again, in more actual shape I 

The fire had burned almost down, the stars were 
glittering outside, and the little clock on the mantel 
had ticked away ''an hour all but three or four 
minutes," before the shadowy train had vanished, 
and Miss Piper started up. 

'* I do hope some one will find those spectacles 
that they will exactly fit I" she said. ** And it is 
so remarkable I have forgotten the tea things all 
this timer 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 325 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

The public gardens in one of the German citiea 
were just beginning to be warm and tempting 
under the first bright days of spring sun ; flowers 
were peeping out here and there from their long 
confinement, and the air was filled with the sound 
of cheerful voices, with now and then a strain of 
music enlivening the whole. 

Most of the promenaders could be recognized 
as Germans by their heavy beards, near-sighted 
glasses, and short puffy pipes ; but strangers from 
almost every nation were mingled with them, Eng- 
lish and American among the rest. 

Two young men, apparently belonging to the 
latter nationality, had been walking arm in arm 
from one avenue to another for the last half hour, 
stopping now and then for a few moments as they 
came near the musicians, or tossing a few groschen 
to the group of laughing Italian children who were 
going through some very unintelligible pantomime 
under a spreading tree. 

" Well, Percival," said the taller of the two, whose 
clear cut intelligent face would mark him anywhere 



•IH' I 



S2t RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

among a host, " have n't we had about enough of 
this? The free air of heaven is a blessing, it's 
true, but I w^it to do some reading yet to-<lay, and 
I know you are in a terrible hurry about that hud- 
dle of colors you call the outline face of some won 
derful new copy. Suppose we go T 

'• Agreed," replied the other, and they turned in 
the direction of the entrance, when the first speaker 
started with the exclamation, "Who's that vapid- 
looking fellow coming up from the other walk ? 
Is n't that Benedict the valiant, who used to man- 
age to get into those swell receptions at home 
where you and all your brothers of the brush liked 
to go so much ? It is, upon my word, and aiming 
straight for us !" 

"You're right," said his companion, and the 
words were hardly uttered before the old familiar 
drawl with which the always fatigued Mr. Benedict 
n:ade the effort of speaking, was heard. 

"Why, how are you, Percival? How arc you, 
McDowell } How under the heavens have you man- 
aged to stay in this stupid country all this time } 
The most tiresome place I was ever in, positively !" 

There was no escape. Benedict exerted himself 
to ascertain that they were just about returning to 
their rooms, and to decide that he would accomfiany 



RUTHTETS VENTURE. 3*7 

them, and they set off, managing the awkward num- 
ber of three for a walk as best they could. 

" What 's the news at home, Benedict ?" asked 
Frederic McDowell, finding his friend had only 
been across a fortnight or so. 

'* Oh, nothing at all," replied Benedict, one syl- 
lable at a time; "that's really what sent me off. 
It 's a tiresome place there at best, but duller than 
ever last season, I believe." 

" Well, I believe I must leave you a little while," 
said Percival, as they neared his studio. " McDow- 
ell will take you into our rooms, and I '11 be there in 
half an hour or so. I must get things a little into 
shape here before I come." 

When the half hour was up and he came, Mc- 
Dowell was alone, and walking up and down the 
room like a caged lion. 

"Why, Where's Benedict, and what's up.^" 
asked Percival. 

"Gone," answered McDowell; "and I'm going 
to-morrow — ^home, I mean. Will you go too V 

" That depends upon circumstances," answered 
Percival quietly ; " but what 's the matter Y* 

" Matter ! To think of that empty-headed Ben- 
edict saying there was nothing to tell, and then 
bringing out such a piece of news as this, and 



■Vi. -. 



3^8 RUTHIE*S VENTURE. 

nearly a year old too ;" and he poured out the story 
of Mr. Gray's losses and the strange changes of 
Eleanor's life. " And nearly a year old," he repeat- 
ed, " and no one has ever thought fit to mention it 
to me ! What were they thinking of at home ?" 

" I suppose they were thinking," replied Perci- 
val, " that you were better off where you were, and 
they would n*t put the idea of coming home into 
your head — your few best friends, I mean ; and you 
know you have hidden away like a monk from all 
the rest." 

" I 'm much obliged to them," replied McDowell 
excitedly, still chafing back and forth across the 
room. " Perhaps they were right ; but I shall leave 
to-morrow, as I tell you. We've been here two 
years, Percival. Do you think that is long enough ?" 

Percival looked earnestly at him, and then a 
clear, bright smile broke slowly over his face. " I 
think 'twill do," he answered. " You have taken 
your degree, and carried off all the honors with it ; 
we have had three months since to do up sight-see- 
ing, and I have felt all that time that you were 
staying more for my sake than your own. You 
have fought a brave fight, McDowell, and God has 
been on your side. I believe we can go home vic- 
torious — to-morrow, if you like," 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 329 

" God and my friend !" said McDowell. " No 
one will ever know what I owe to you, Percival ! 
But don't feel as if you must give up everything 
here because I go. Do n't you want to stay an- 
other year or two among these cracked, dingy old 
canvases that you see all the light of heaven in ? 
If you do, only say so, and the money shall be forth- 
coming ten times over." 

*• No^" said Percival, " I will go with you." 



330 RUTHIETS VENTUnE. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

Summer, fair, green, leafy summer, had come 
once more, fresh as if just breathed for the first 
time over a new world of blue hills, rustling forests, 
and clear streams, instead of finding them, for the 
hundredth and hundredth time, wrapping Glenbury 
about with all the loveliness its visitors seemed to 
find more enchanting every year. 

And nowhere did it find warmer welcome than 
under the broken-topped chimney of Miss Piper's 
queer yellow house. It was such a comfort to have 
no more early twilight and long, lonely evenings, 
when even the little pretence of work she had kept 
up must be put away. 

And she did not even keep up a pretence any 
longer ; she had told her customers she was going 
to take a vacation, and had confided to Ruthie and 
Eleanor that the doctor had said her eyes would be 
better for a little rest. That was all they knew, 
and Miss Piper petted her peonies and planted all 
kinds of seeds up and down the borders of the 
plank walk, and went here and there nursing the 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 331 

«ick more than she had ever had thne to do before ; 
and so the time was passed from day to day as she 
never would have believed it could be. 

But as the days went on, the little hoard of 
money meked away with them, smaller and 
smaller, vanishing, and so little now that she 
would not count it; she would rather not know. 
But some day she would know. She would find 
there was nothing left to count ! What would she 
do then } 

The sunset light ^owed against great fiery 
banks and molten masses of clouds, as Miss Piper 
sat by her window one evening, asking herself that 
very question for the fiftieth time, and then deter- 
mining for the fiftieth time that she would not ask 
it again. Some one else was to answer it for her ; 
it was not for her alone. She could see nothing 
herself ; and if the time came when the way should 
be shown her, even if it were asking charity, it 
would be easier to do it then than to think of it 
now. 

The crimson clouds faded nearer to purple and 
the golden masses to silver, and Miss Piper's 
thoughts strayed back to a day when Ruthie had 
said, " Do n't you think there are peofde whom the 
Lord loves very dearly, and yet leta them go on and 



S32 RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 

on without ever seeming to send anything very 
bright or joyful into their lives ?" 

" Oh, but I 've had so many comforts ! I Ve 
always been so very happy!" she exclaimed re- 
proachfully to herself; and then a new train of 
thoughts rose suddenly up that would range them- 
selves in pretty sharp contrast with life in the queer 
lonely yellow house. 

Eleanor Gray was Eleanor McDowell now ; the 
Gray place had been repurchased and stood in her 
name ; and Briggs, the carriage, and the coachman 
were all reinstated as if there had been no change. 
Ruthie Larcom still declared she was the happiest 
little woman the sun ever shone upon, and the 
Judge and her husband seemed to rival each other 
in devising ways to make her more so ; while Hans 
and Barbara had been able to buy out the store, and 
were reigning there, prince and princess in their 
own proud and happy estimation. 

"A little change is pleasant now and then," said 
the little dressmaker softly to herself; and then 
rose the thought, in a quick, unpleasant sort of 
way, that some changes might occur that were far 
from being so. 

" I think I '11 go to bed," she said. " It is only 
seventeen minutes past eight, but the color is all 



RUTHIETS VENTURE. 333 

gone out of the sky, and I know I shall feel so 
much better after I have said my prayers." 

The birds were singing in full chorus when she 
waked again, the sky was clear and blue, and odors 
from her flower-beds came softly in on the fresh 
morning air. For one moment she met it all with 
her old light-hearted welcome ; then a dark swoop* 
ing of the last night's thoughts bore down upon her, 
and then " a text," bright and illumined as the sun- 
set sky she had watched, rose and stood clear, as 
in letters of gold, before her eyes : 

" My help cometh from the Lord." 

*^ Cometh ! cometh I" exclahned the little dress- 
maker, the tears pressing suddenly into her eyes ; 
"why how very strange I never thought of that just 
so before ! My help cometh from the Lord ! Why 
how very remarkable I I have read that text so 
many times and never before seemed to think of it 
exactly in this way I" 

The day wore quietly away, another simset 
glowed in the western sky, and Miss Piper sat down 
to watch it all over again. " It is so much compa- 
ny" she said, and as it grew even brighter, she began 
to repeat once more, " Cometh ! cometh ! My help 
cometh from the Lord 1" As she spoke, there was 
a sound at the little gate. She looked out toward 



S3* RUTHIErS V^ENTURE. 

it, and there was Eleanor, with all the glosy of tbo 
west behind her, and her own fair face radiant with 
the beauty of long ago, coming up the plank walk 
to the door ! 

Miss Piper had it opened before she was even 
at the steps, and she came in, and the two sat dowa 
side by side, and then Eleanor put up her beautif- 
ful hand and stroked the little dressmaker's face 
softly. 

" Dear Miss Piper," she said, '' I have come to 
ask a favor I Such a very great favor, and I do nf t 
know any one but you. wlio can grant it to me I 
Vou know the little cottage where I have been so 
happy for a year is vacant now, and you know that 
I am in great danger of having nothing at all! tO: do-. 
My old work in the gay world that you taught me 
how ta do, is gone, for my husband: and my father 
both wish our home to be here. The city is near 
enough for law practice, you know, and the work I 
took so gladly out of Ruthie's hands seems to be 
finished also. 

"There is one investment of papa'is that he 
thought was lost; it was worthless: enougH fot 
awhile, but it seems to have raised its head wonder- 
fully now, until it will be quite^ sufficient: to make 
make me fed independent about him, and leib ma 



RUTHIE'S VENTURE. 335 

make myself, happy in some way all my own, be- 
sides. 

"Dear little Piper, I want to make a humble 
modest beginning of an orphan asylum, in the 
empty cottage. Will you come and be the matron, 
amd make home and gladness for the little ones 
with your sweet never-failing sympathy and love ? 
Perhaps it will not hurt your eyes to rest them a 
little longer than the doctor said, and if you will 
never use them, all the rest of your life, for any- 
thing but making sunlight shine through my little 
orphan house, what blessed* blessed eyes they will 
be to all of us thait they shine upon I 

" The salary shall be ample, and we will make 
you so very comfortable besides, that you shall lay 
it all up, or give it all away if you think it would 
be a luxury to do that instead !" 

And so it had come at last, the help she had 
hoped for and looked for; and through the hand of 
what other messenger could it have seemed quite 
so welcome and dear 

Eleanor was right when she said the poor eyes 
would make blessed shining for the little orphan 
house and its inmates, and that a longer rest would 
be good for them. The shadowy sight that was 
left never grew dimmer, and if possible the light 



136 RirrHIETS VENTURE. 

that shone out through them from the clear deep 
wells of the little dressmaker's overflowing heart, 
grew brighter and brighter as every year went 
on» and as more and more friendless little ones 
nestled close and warm within its range. 

*^ So remarkable that this should have come just 
as I had seemed to lose everything else ; and I do 
hope it wont hurt me just to run my eyes once com- 
fortably over this psalm; it can't take me more 
than three minutes and a half T said Miss Piper 
as she rocked peacefully in the green cushioned 
rocking-chair, while the first call of the churcn-bell 
rang out upon Sunday morning once more, and her 
book-mark, with a pressed bud from Eleanor's bunch 
of tea-roses, lay at the words, " I will lift up mine 
eyes unto the hiUs, from whence cometh my help.** 



