d been looking like a piece of
heaven itself, so calm and serene were the eyes, and so beautiful the
expression which lingered round her lips. Now she seemed to awaken and
pull herself together. She did not attempt to avoid Susy, but slipping
out of the crowd of people who were leaving the church, she found
herself by the girl's side.
"Come just a little way home with me," said Susy. "It won't take me long
to say what I want to say."
She linked her hand in her companion's as she spoke. Yes, there was
little doubt of it, Ruth was lovable. One forgot her low birth, her low
surroundings, when one looked at her. Susy had heard of those few people
of rare character and rare natures who are, as it is expressed,
"Nature's ladies." There are Nature's gentlemen as well, and Nature's
ladies and Nature's gentlemen are above mere external circumstances;
they are above the mere money's worth or the mere accident of birth.
Now, Ruth belonged to this rare class, and Susy, without quite
understanding it, felt it. She forgot the humble little house, the lack
of rooms, and the workmanlike appearance of the whole place. She said in
a deferential tone:
"I have come to you, from Kathleen O'Hara. You have done something which
has distressed her very much. She wants you to meet her to-morrow at the
White Cross Corner on your way to school; she wants you to be there at a
quarter to nine. That is all, Ruth. You will be sure to attend? I
promised Kathleen most faithfully that I would deliver her message. She
is very unhappy about something. I don't know what you have done to vex
her."
"But I do," said Ruth. "And I can't help going on vexing her."
"But what is it?" said Susy, whose curiosity was suddenly awakened. "You
might tell me. I wish you would."
"I can't tell you, Susan; it has nothing to do with you. It is a matter
between Kathleen and myself. Very well, I will meet her. There is no use
in shirking things. Good-night, Susan. It was good of you to come and
give me Kathleen's message."
CHAPTER XIV.
RUTH RESIGNS THE PREMIERSHIP.
The next morning Kathleen O'Hara was downstairs betimes. She ran into
the kitchen and suggested to Maria that she should help her to toast the
bread. Maria, who was somewhat lazy, and who had already begun to
appreciate Kathleen's extreme good-nature, handed her the toasting-fork
and pointed to a heap of bread which lay cut and ready for toasting on
the deal table in the center of the kit
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