the
hallway began to strike. "One! two! three! four! five! six! seven!
eight! _Nine!_" counted the little girl, and with the last stroke she
was out of bed.

Before she was dressed Aunt Deborah opened the door.

"Good-morning, Ruth," she said pleasantly, quite as if nothing had
happened on the previous day, and that Ruth had not slept two hours
later than usual. "I have brought thee thy breakfast; and thee may stay
in thy room until I call thee," and Aunt Deborah set a small tray on
the light stand near the window, and before Ruth could make any response
she had left the room.

Ruth was very hungry. She had no supper on the previous night, and she
now looked eagerly toward the little tray, which held only, a bowl and
pitcher. The bowl was nearly full of porridge, and the pitcher of creamy
milk.

That was all very well; and she ate it all, to the last spoonful. But
usually there were hot corn muffins and a bit of bacon or an egg to
follow the porridge, and Ruth was still hungry.

"Perhaps Aunt Deborah forgot," thought Ruth, "but I don't believe she
did. Perhaps she is only provoked at me for being late for breakfast!"

Ruth shook up her pillows, turned back the blankets of her bed, and then
went to the window and leaned out. There were two robins now on the top
branch of the hawthorn, and for a moment she watched them, wondering if
they were planning to build a nest there. The window overlooked the
Merrill's' garden; and in a few minutes Ruth saw Gilbert coming along the
path toward the wall.

"Lafayette! La-fay-Ettie!" she called. Gilbert looked about as if
puzzled, and Ruth called again. "I'm up-stairs. Gil-Bert!" and at this
the boy turned and looked up, and waved his hat in response.

"I've found Hero," she called. "Honest! And an English officer is going
to bring him home this very morning."

"Come on over and tell Winifred," responded Gilbert. "She has something
to tell you, too. Something fine."

"I can't come over this morning. I----" but before Ruth could say
another word she felt a firm hand on her shoulder, and she was drawn
into the room and the window closed, and Aunt Deborah was looking at her
reprovingly.

"Ruth, why did thee think I wanted thee to stay up-stairs this morning?"
she asked.

Ruth shook her head sullenly. She said to herself that no matter what
Aunt Deborah might say she would not answer.

"Well, my child, then I must tell thee. I hoped thee would think over
thy willfulness