CHAPTER V
RUTH DECIDES
Ruth slept late the next morning, and when she first awoke it was withthe puzzled feeling of waking from a bad dream. Then slowly sheremembered the happenings of the previous day.
The spring sunlight filled the room. From a hawthorn tree just below herwindow she could hear a robin singing as if there were nothing butsunshine and delight in all the world. And then the big clock in thehallway began to strike. "One! two! three! four! five! six! seven!eight! _Nine!_" counted the little girl, and with the last stroke shewas out of bed.
Before she was dressed Aunt Deborah opened the door.
"Good-morning, Ruth," she said pleasantly, quite as if nothing hadhappened on the previous day, and that Ruth had not slept two hourslater than usual. "I have brought thee thy breakfast; and thee may stayin thy room until I call thee," and Aunt Deborah set a small tray onthe light stand near the window, and before Ruth could make any responseshe had left the room.
Ruth was very hungry. She had no supper on the previous night, and shenow looked eagerly toward the little tray, which held only, a bowl andpitcher. The bowl was nearly full of porridge, and the pitcher of creamymilk.
That was all very well; and she ate it all, to the last spoonful. Butusually there were hot corn muffins and a bit of bacon or an egg tofollow the porridge, and Ruth was still hungry.
"Perhaps Aunt Deborah forgot," thought Ruth, "but I don't believe shedid. 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 thenwent to the window and leaned out. There were two robins now on the topbranch of the hawthorn, and for a moment she watched them, wondering ifthey were planning to build a nest there. The window overlooked theMerrill's' garden; and in a few minutes Ruth saw Gilbert coming along thepath toward the wall.
"Lafayette! La-fay-Ettie!" she called. Gilbert looked about as ifpuzzled, and Ruth called again. "I'm up-stairs. Gil-Bert!" and at thisthe boy turned and looked up, and waved his hat in response.
"I've found Hero," she called. "Honest! And an English officer is goingto bring him home this very morning."
"Come on over and tell Winifred," responded Gilbert. "She has somethingto tell you, too. Something fine."
"I can't come over this morning. I----" but before Ruth could sayanother word she felt a firm hand on her shoulder, and she was drawninto the room and the window closed, and Aunt Deborah was looking at herreprovingly.
"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 whatAunt Deborah might say she would not answer.
"Well, my child, then I must tell thee. I hoped thee would think overthy willfulness of yesterday; that thee would realize that thy conductwas such as would grieve and shame thy father and mother. Dost thouthink it a small thing nearly to ruin thy mother's best gown? To godressed as if in a play to the house of an enemy of thy country to ask afavor? And before that thee quite forgot thy good manners in rushing upthe steps of that house on Second Street, and then speaking rudely tome, who have no wish but to be kind to thee and help thee be a goodgirl."
While Aunt Deborah was speaking Ruth looked up at her, a littlefrightened and sullen at first; then as she saw that Aunt Deborah's facewas pale, that she looked as if she had been crying and was nearly readyto cry again, the little girl's heart softened, and she ran toward heraunt, saying:
"Oh, Aunt Deborah! I am sorry I spoke rudely to you. And when I said Idid not like you it was only because I was cross and so unhappy aboutHero. I do like you, truly I do. And, oh! I did not think about GeneralHowe being our enemy; or that I would spoil Mother's pretty gown. I onlythought about Hero." And now Ruth was sobbing, and Aunt Deborah's armwas about her.
But for a moment Aunt Deborah made no response; then she said:
"Dear child, thee has given me happiness again. And now let us both doour best until thy mother returns. But thee knows that it is right forthee to decide if thee should not be punished in some way, so that infuture thee will remember not to lose thy temper, to remember thymanners; and above all not to stoop to deceit to gain thy wishes."
Aunt Deborah smiled happily at her little niece as she finished, as ifquite sure that Ruth would welcome her suggestion.
Ruth smiled in response. She began to think it would be rather fine todecide on her own punishment, and resolved it should be even more severethan any Aunt Deborah would inflict.
"Yes, Aunt Deborah, I will stay up-stairs all day. And I will eat onlyporridge for my dinner and supper. I will not call from the window, andI will knit; and not even play with Cecilia," she said eagerly.
"Very well, dear child. But beside these things thee must say over tothyself the reason for thy punishment. Say to thyself: 'Not again will Ibe rude or unkind, not again will I be thoughtless of my behavior,'"said Aunt Deborah approvingly.
There was a loud knock at the front door, and Aunt Deborah hurried awayto answer it. In a moment Ruth heard a joyous bark.
"It's Hero! It's Hero!" she exclaimed, running toward the door. But withher hand on the latch she stopped suddenly. She had promised that shewould not leave the room that day. She had set her own punishment forrudeness, and for the thoughtlessness that had perhaps ruined hermother's dress.
"Oh! I wish I hadn't dressed up," she thought, as she turned slowly awayfrom the door, thinking of Hero looking wistfully about for his littlemistress. She knew that Aunt Deborah would be kind to him, but not tosee Hero after he had been missing so long was a real punishment for thelittle girl, and she went back to the window and stood looking outwishing that for a punishment she had thought of something besidestaying in her room all day.
As she looked out she saw that Gilbert was still in his garden, thatWinifred was beside him, and that they were both making motions for herto open the window.
She shook her head soberly. She could see that Winifred was greatlyexcited about something, and was talking eagerly to her brother. Theyboth looked up at Ruth's window and again motioned with waving arms forher to open it. After a few moments they seemed to realize that she had,for some reason they could not imagine, been forbidden to; and with agood-bye signal they both turned and ran toward the house.
"I do wonder what they wanted to tell me," thought Ruth. "Oh, dear! Itis dreadful to stay up here when Hero is home, and when Winifred andGilbert have a secret." She began to realize that she had set herself nolight punishment.
"But it wouldn't be a punishment if I were enjoying it," she finallydecided, and getting the half-finished sock from her knitting bag, shedrew a small rocking-chair to the center of the room, seated herself andbegan resolutely to knit.
Now and then she could hear sounds from the rooms below; and once Ruthdropped her knitting and started toward the door, for she had heardHero's plaintive whine as he waited for admittance. Then had come AuntDeborah's voice calling him away sternly; and Ruth picked up herknitting, resolved to keep exactly to her promise. She wondered if MajorAndre had sent Hero home in charge of "Dick," the smiling young soldierwho had spoken to her on General Howe's door-steps. But most of all herthoughts centered about Winifred and Gilbert.
She heard the clock strike eleven, and realized that she was veryhungry; and that an hour was a long time to wait before Aunt Deborahwould bring her bowl of porridge. A shadow darkened the window, and shelooked up with startled eyes to see Winifred's face pressed against theglass.
Ruth ran to the window. "How did you get up here?" she questioned inwonder.
"Open the window, quick!" Winifred responded in an anxious whisper. "Theladder wiggles about, and somebody may see me."
Ruth opened the window and Winifred crawled in, and suddenly the ladderdisappeared.
"It's Gilbert. He promised to take it down as soon as I got in. What isthe matter, Ruth? Has Aunt Deborah made you stay up-stairs? Did you knowHero was home? A soldier brought him." While Winifred talked she
lookedat Ruth anxiously, as if to make sure that nothing had really befallenher friend.
Ruth was smiling with delight at her unexpected visitor.
"Oh, Winifred! You were splendid to come up the ladder. I'm stayingup-stairs to punish myself. I was rude to Aunt Deborah; and last night Idressed up in my mother's best dress and went to see General Howe!" Ruthanswered.
Winifred was too surprised to reply, and Ruth went on telling of hersudden decision, and of the adventures that followed, and concludedwith: "And of course I ought not to have dressed up, and I ought not tohave run away. So now I am staying up-stairs all day, and all I am tohave to eat is porridge and milk. I decided it myself," she concluded,not a little pleased at the thought.
"Why, Ruth Pernell!" exclaimed Winifred admiringly. "I don't know whichis the most wonderful, your going to see General Howe, or your decidingto punish yourself. Begin at the time you reached the General's houseand tell me everything up to now."
Ruth was quite ready to do this, and the two little friends seatedthemselves on the window-seat, Winifred listening admiringly while Ruthtold over the story of the previous night. She had forgotten all aboutpunishment; but a noise in the hallway and the sound of the clockstriking the hour of noon made her stop suddenly in her whisperedrecital. "It's Aunt Deborah! Winifred, hide, quick! Under the bed," shesaid, at the same moment giving Winifred a little push.
Aunt Deborah came in smiling and inauspicious, with a well-filled bowlof porridge and a generous pitcher of milk on the tray. It had been ahappy morning for Aunt Deborah. Hero was safe at home, none the worsefor his adventures; and, best of all, Ruth of her own accord haddeclared herself to blame, and decided that her faults should bepunished. It seemed to Aunt Deborah that after this she and her littleniece would have no more misunderstandings. She thought it a fine thingthat Ruth wished to stay by herself all that sunny spring day; and shewas sure it was no light punishment.
A Little Maid of Old Philadelphia Page 6