by Emma Wolf
Chapter VII
Mrs. Jules Levice was slowly gaining the high-road to recovery, and manyof the restrictions for her cure had been removed. As a consequence,and with an eye ever to Ruth's social duties, she urged her to leave hermore and more to herself.
As a matter of course, Ruth had laid the case of Bob and hisneighborhood before her father's consideration. A Jewish girl's life isan open page to her family. Matters of small as well as of larger momentare freely discussed. The result is that while it robs her of much ofher Christian sister's spontaneity, which often is the latter's greatestcharm, it also, through the sagacity of more experienced heads,guards her against many indiscretions. This may be a relic of Europeantraining, but it enables parents to instil into the minds of theirdaughters principles which compare favorable with the American girl'snative self-reliance. It was as natural for Ruth to consult her fatherin this trivial matter, in view of Louis's disapproval, as it would befor her friend, Dorothy Gwynne, to sally anywhere so long as she herselffelt justified in so doing.
Ruth really wished to go; and as her father, after considering thematter, could find no objection, she went. After that it was enough totell her mother that she was going to see Bob. Mrs. Levice had heard thedoctor speak of him to Ruth; and any little charity that came in her wayshe was only too happy to forward.
Bob's plain, ungarnished room soon began to show signs of beauty underRuth's deft fingers. A pot of mignonette in the window, a small paintingof exquisite chrysanthemums on the wall, a daily bunch of fresh roses,were the food she brought for his poet soul. But there were othersubstantial things.
The day after she had replaced the coarse horse-blanket with a soft downquilt, the doctor made one of his bi-weekly visits to her mother.
As he stood taking leave of Ruth on the veranda, he turned, with hisfoot on the last step, and looked up at her as if arrested by a suddenthought.
"Miss Levice," said he, "I should like to give you a friendly scolding.May I?"
"How can I prevent you?"
"Well, if I were you I should not indulge Bob's love of luxury as youdo. He positively refused to get up yesterday on account of the 'softfeel,' as he termed it, of that quilt. Now, you know, he must get up; heis able to, and in a week I wish to start him in to work again. Then hewon't be able to afford such 'soft feels,' and he will rebel. He has hadenough coddling for his own good. I really think it is mistaken kindnesson your part, Miss Levice."
The girl was leaning lightly against one of the supporting columns. Aplayful smile parted her lips as she listened.
"Dr. Kemp," she replied, "may I give you a little friendly scolding?"
"You have every right." His tone was somewhat earnest, despite hissmiling eyes. A man of thirty-five does not resent a friendly scoldingfrom a winsome young girl.
"Well, don't you think it is rather hard of you to deprive poor Bob ofany pleasure to-day may bring, on the ground that to-morrow he may wishit too, and will not be able to have it?"
"As you put it, it does seem so; but I am pugnacious enough to wishyou to see it as practically as I do. Put sentiment aside, and theonly sensible thing to be done now is to prepare him for the hard,uncushioned facts of an active life."
"But why must it be so hard for him?"
"Why? In the face of the inevitable, that is a time-wasting, uselessquestion. Life is so; even if we find its underlying cause, thediscovery will not alter the fact."
"Yes, it will."
"How?"
"By its enabling us to turn our backs on the hard way and seek asofter."
"You forget that strait-jacket to all inclination,--circumstance."
"And are you not forgetting that friendly hands may help to remove thestrait-jacket?"
Her lovely face looked very winning, filled with its kindly meaning.
"Thank you," said he, raising his hat and forgetting to replace it as hespoke; "that is a gentle truth; some day we shall discuss this further.For the present, use your power in getting Bob upon his feet."
"Yes." She gave a hurried glance at the door behind her, and ran quicklydown to the lowest step. "Dr. Kemp," said she, a little breathlessly,"I have wished for some time to ask you to let me know when you haveany cases that require assistance outside of a physician's,--such asmy father or I might lend. You must have a broad field for suchopportunities. Will you think of me then, please?"
"I will," he replied, looking with amused pleasure at her flushed face."Going in for philanthropy, Miss Levice?"
"No; going out for it, thank you;" and she put her hand into hisoutstretched one. She watched him step into his carriage; he turned andraised his hat again,--a trifling circumstance that Ruth dwelt upon withpleasure; a second glance always presupposes an interested first.
He did not fail to keep his promise; and once on the lookout for "cases"herself, Ruth soon found enough irons in the fire to occupy her sparemoments.
Mrs. Levice, however, insisted upon her resuming her place in society.
"A young girl must not withdraw herself from her sphere, or people willeither consider her eccentric or will forget her entirely. Don't beunreasonable, Ruth; there is no reason why you should not enjoy everyfunction in our circle, and Louis is always happy to take you. Whenhe asked you if you would go with him to the Art Exhibition on Fridaynight, I heard you say you did not know. Now why?"
"Oh, that? I never gave it a second's thought. I promised Father to gowith him in the afternoon; I did not consider it worth an explanation."
"But, you see, I did. It looks very queer for Louis to be travellingaround by himself; couldn't you go again in the evening with him?"
"Of course, you over-thoughtful aunt. If the pictures are good, a secondvisit will not be thrown away,--that is, if Louis is really anxious formy companionship. But, 'I doubt it, I doubt it, I do.'"
"What nonsense!" returned her mother, somewhat testily. "Why shouldn'the be? You are always amiable together, are you not?"
"Well," she said, knitting her brows and pursing her lips drolly, "that,methinks, depends on the limits and requirements of amiability. Ifdisputation showeth a friendly spirit, then is my lord overfriendly;for it oft hath seemed of late to pleasure his mood to wax disputations,though, in sooth, lady fair, I have always maintained a wary anddecorous demeanor."
"I can imagine," laughed her mother, a little anxiously; "then you willgo?"
"Why not?"
If Arnold really cared for the outcome of such manoeuvres, Mrs. Levice'sexertions bore some fruit.