erly depraved
person as you seem to think I am. Why, I didn't know you had such a poor
opinion of me."

She gave a short little laugh which ended in a sort of sob. I was afraid
she was going to cry before us. But the armor was at hand. She put it on
quickly, the cynical smile, the nonchalant air.

"There is no good talking any more, as I see," she was able to go on,
thus protected. "This is bordering on a scene, and scenes are such bad
taste! I'm going into the living-room."

She crossed the room to the door. "You all can go on maligning me to
your hearts' content. I've had about enough, thank you. Only remember
supper is at seven, and Edith's maids want to get out early Sundays.
Consider the maids at least," she finished, and left us, colors flying.

CHAPTER XVII

RUTH GOES TO NEW YORK

The next morning when Will and I motored home we were alone. We
approached the steeples of our town about noontime. I remember whistles
were blowing and bells ringing as we passed through the Square. We saw
Robert Jennings coming out of one of the University buildings on his way
home from a late morning recitation. We slowed down beside him, and Will
sang out to him to pile in behind; which he did, leaning forward and
chatting volubly with Will and me for the next ten minutes about a new
starter device for an automobile. When Will stopped in front of our
walk, Robert hopped out of his back seat and opened the door for me.

It was when Will had motored out of hearing that Robert turned sharply
to me and asked, "Did you leave her in Hilton?"

"No, Bob, Ruth isn't in Hilton. She's gone to New York," I told him
gently.

"Whom is she staying with in New York? Your brother?" he asked.

"No, not Malcolm. No. But she's all right."

"What do you mean--'she's all right'?"

"Oh, I mean she has money enough--and all that."

"She isn't _alone_ in New York!" he exclaimed. "You don't mean to
say----"

"Now, Bob, don't _you_ go and get excited about it. Ruth's all right.
I'm just about worn out persuading my brother Tom that it is perfectly
all right for Ruth to go to New York for a little while if she wants to.
I can't begin arguing with you, the minute I get home. I'm all worn out
on the subject."

"But what is she doing down there? Whom is she visiting? Who is looking
out for her? Who went with her? Who met her?"

"Nobody, nobody. Nobody met her; nobody went with her; she isn't
visiting anybody. Good heavens, Bob, you'd