you get strong again you will come over and stay with father and
mother and me at Carrigrohane Castle."

"No, no, my love. There was a time when I'd have liked it well, but not
now. You see, dear--" his voice faltered and his eyes grew anxious--"I
must mind the shop. When a man doesn't attend to his own business,
accounts go wrong. Now there was quite a deficiency last week--the wrong
side of the ledger. It was really terrible. I think of it at night, and
when I wake first thing in the morning I remember it. I must get to my
accounts, little miss, but I am right glad to see you."

Kathleen felt a lump in her throat. Ruth, with her bright eyes fixed on
her grandfather, stood close by.

"But there!" said the old man hastily. "It's splendid for Ruth. She's
got into that school, and she's trying for a scholarship. I know what
Ruth tries for she will get, for her brain is of that fine quality that
could not brook defeat, and her mind is of that high order that it must
adjust itself to true learning. I was a bit of a scholar when I was
young, although I made my money in grocery. Well, well! Ruth is all
right. Even if the old man can't square up the ledger, Ruth is as right
as right can be. Thank you, Miss--I can't remember your name--- but
thank you, little Irish miss, for coming to see me; and good-bye."

Kathleen found herself outside the room. Mrs. Craven was not in the
kitchen. Ruth and Kathleen went into the garden.

"How can you stand it?" said Kathleen. "Doesn't it break your heart to
see him?"

"Oh no," said Ruth. "You see, I am accustomed to him. He talks like
that. I am sorry he is so bothered about the accounts, but perhaps that
phase will pass."

"He is so pleased about you and the scholarship."

"Yes," said Ruth. She turned pale. "Whatever happens," she added, "he
must never know."

"What do you mean about whatever happens?"

"He must never know if I do not get it. Good-bye now, Kathleen. I am
glad you have seen grandfather and granny. I must go back to granny now.
She is very tired; she gets so little rest at night."

Kathleen went slowly home. The meal was over at the Tennants', but
somehow her couple of potatoes had satisfied her. She felt much more
sober than she had done in the morning; she was inclined to think, to
consider her ways. She felt an uncomfortable sensation of being haunted
by the faces of Ruth and the old man.

"But of course Ruth will get her scholarship," she said to herself. "O